Two

The fall of 1885 that had seemed to last forever had finally given way to true winter. January of 1886 brought cold winds from the north that stormed across the prairie. Ranch and farmhouses turned into ice castles, frosted with snow and armed by glistening icicles. Snowfall became a daily occurrence as a sea of white washed the plains.

Because of the bad weather, Christopher spent the school week in town with Ma Smalley. If the weather permitted he returned to spend the weekend at the ranch. The house seemed so quiet without the youngster's presence, giving Matt and Kitty each a chance to contemplate their impending parenthood.

The event that had seemed so far away on that September evening in Doc's office now seemed impossibly close. Matt Dillon began to notice little things, things he'd been either too busy or sick to pay attention to before. Kitty's stomach definitely had taken on a life of it's own. Their evenings were spent in the parlor relaxing after supper. Doc would read from his medical journal as Kitty attempted for the tenth time to knit a baby blanket. Unable to concentrate on bookwork or reading, Dillon would find his eyes stray to his wife. He would watch in amazement as the baby blanket would rock and roll to the whim of Kitty's belly. One evening he watched as her stomach jumped in repeated jolts. Doc had been watching too, he asked with a chuckle, "Baby have the hiccups tonight Kitty?"

With a grin and wink at Doc she'd told him, "This baby must take after his Uncle Louie Pheeters!" She rubbed her belly in a soothing motion, "Settle down there Baby Dillon, it's nearly bedtime and Mama needs her sleep."

Matt's mind was reeling; "An unborn baby can have the hiccups," he questioned, "just like a real baby…?"

Doc laughed out loud, "That is a real baby in there."

Dillon didn't sleep a wink that night as the realization hit him full force, he was going to be a father – soon.

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As poor as she was at knitting, Kitty was a pretty good hand with a needle and thread. Her early years of getting by on little or nothing and saving every penny she could in order to buy the Long Branch, had given her plenty of opportunity to perfect her skill as a seamstress. She spent her afternoon sewing tiny garments made out of soft white flannel. One afternoon several weeks after Christmas, Matt had hobbled over to take a closer look at her work. Setting his cane to rest against the table he had picked up a tiny undershirt. It was smaller than his hand and his fingers were too large to fit in the sleeve holes, "Kitty…" he said cautiously, for her moods of late were unpredictable, "Isn't this going to be too small?"

She inhaled deeply, "Oh Cowboy, you do have a lot to learn," She tilted her head at him frowning only slightly and asked, "Don't you remember how small Mary was when you brought her to me?" He thought back to the newborn baby he'd left with her for safe keeping a few years back. He had been responsible for the infant for several days out on the prairie. He'd often wondered how the baby had survived his inexperienced handling.

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Kitty's own clothing had also become a problem, as her size rapidly expanded - even her maternity gowns, no longer closed over her ample breasts and enormous belly. She found by tying a ribbon around the button and looping it through the button hole she was able to widen the waistline of her skirts, Blouses were a different story and each one she tried on looked more indecent than the last. She finally found Matt's blue work shirts were large enough to accommodate her ever-escalating weight.

Mirrors were to be avoided at all costs. When by chance she did catch a glimpse of her reflection she hardly recognized herself. Her hair was always worn down now; the effort for any kind of style was just too great. Her face was full and her whole body reminded her of a balloon that someone had put too much air into. She would sadly shake her head at her image. "I look ready to pop!"

Shoes were a problem as well. The initial dilemma had been bending over to put them on. That had been replaced by the fact her feet had swollen to a size larger and the shoes no longer fit. One morning in late January, Dillon had limped into their room to find her sitting on the bed in tears. He was instantly alarmed and rushed to her side, "Honey, what's wrong?" he asked. "Are you in pain, is it the baby, should I get Doc?"

She shook her head, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand. She stared up at him, sniffing loudly. Sitting down beside her, Matt handed over his fresh handkerchief. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose and when she seemed a little more composed he asked again, "What's wrong?"

The question produced a second flood of tears, she answered in a sob, "I can't put my shoes on."

Matt smiled, "Here, let me help you." He stood up and took her foot in his hand and picked up the shoe, "This reminds me of Hanna Rose's favorite story." He said trying to bring a smile back to her face. Hanna had received the book of fairy tales as a Christmas present. It traveled with her wherever she went. On Hanna and Bessie's last visit to the Dillon's she had climbed on Matt's lap and begged, "Please read me a story Marshal." When he had finished she'd looked up at him with her sweet little girl eyes as she fluttered her long lashes, "Again please." He'd been unable to resist.

Dillon relayed the story to Kitty as he prepared to slide her foot into the waiting shoe, "It seems there was this handsome prince …" He paused to make eye contact with Kitty before continuing, "That would be me. His lady friend, I believed they called her Miss Cinderella… that would be you… lost her fancy glass shoe. The Prince found the shoe, but he couldn't find his lady friend … seems he forgot what she looked like, so he went all around the county trying this glass shoe on every lady he found. Finally he got to Cinderella's place, but he didn't know that's where she lived. He tried the shoe on her ugly step-sisters, but their feet were too big to fit into the slipper." Dillon uttered these last words as he tried to push Kitty's puffy foot into her shoe.

"Ouch!" she cried. Matt pushed a little harder until finally with a grunt, Kitty grabbed the shoe from his hand."I guess you must have found one of the ugly old big footed step-sisters, because that shoe isn't going to fit Buster." Her lower lip trembled as fresh tears glistened on her eyelashes. She immediately lowered her head in embarrassment.

Matt Dillon knew this was trouble. He searched his mind frantically for the right words to say that would remedy the situation. Like a gift from above, the advice of Will Roniger popped into his head, "Kitty you're beautiful," he ran his fingers lightly up her neck to her chin and gently raised her face to look at him. He was satisfied by her smile, until he added, "Even if you are big." He was immediately aware of his mistake, and retreated like a common coward to the hall. He had shut the door just a moment before the offending shoe hit. He grimaced at the familiar sound. He knew that while he hadn't succeeded in putting Kitty's foot in her shoe, he had succeeded in putting his own foot in his mouth.