The Long Way Home

Chapter 2

As was usual for the time of year, once the sun went down the air became cooler quite quickly. After the long dusty heat of a prairie summer, some residents of Dodge City took the opportunity to wander out into the pleasant evening air. Many of them stopped to exchange greetings with the Marshal as he made his evening rounds. It was still early and he knew he would have to walk around the town again later, checking doors and alleyways once the saloons were closing up, but he took this opportunity to be seen by citizens so that they knew the law was on the job. He was about to walk into the Long Branch saloon when a vaguely familiar voice called his name.

"Marshal Dillon!" He turned to see Henry Johnson a few paces behind him. A young lady with long blonde hair held in place by a fashionable hat was holding onto his arm. She didn't look to be more than eighteen years of age and judging from her manner of dress this was the first time she had ever left the comforts of an eastern city.

"Marshal Dillon," he repeated, and then with a lot of pride and tenderness in his voice continued, "this is my wife, Mrs. Abigail Johnson."

Matt lifted his hat, "Pleasure to meet you Mrs. Johnson."

"We have just received word that all our equipment will be here on the noon train tomorrow. Your state governor has been most kind in arranging everything for us."
Indeed he has, thought Dillon, but he just looked at the young innocent pair and wondered how on earth they were going to cross more than a hundred miles of prairie with all its dangers. He doubted either of these two had lived in the open for days on end, sleeping on the ground, bathing in streams and cooking over an open fire. He shook his head minimally and looked at the enthusiastic innocence of the young couple standing in front of him.

"Just come and tell me when you have it all here and we'll see what can be arranged."

Matt resumed his walk along Front Street and without even thinking about it found himself at the doors to the Long Branch.

"Who's that you were talking to Cowboy?" He looked down to see Kitty sitting on a bench outside the saloon, just appreciating the cooler air.

He smiled at her, trying not to make it seem important.

"Just a young man who works for the railroad. He's here to do some surveying or something, so he brought his young wife along."

Kitty had known this tall lawman for a long time. She could tell that what he was telling was not the whole story. She also knew better than to push him right now. Matt always considered himself well able to question a prisoner and get to the truth but Kitty knew that, where he was concerned, she could do a much better job. She planned to have the whole story before morning.

For the first time in many weeks Dodge was quiet that evening and so after making his late night rounds Matt was able to head up the back stairs to the peaceful sanctum above the Long Branch. It seemed such a long time since he had spent an evening alone with the beautiful red head that his first inclination was to pull her onto the big brass bed, but she obviously had other ideas. The stove was lit and the room was warm. Two decorative oil lamps were burning giving a soft amber glow that reflected off of the shiny threads in the heavy brocade drapes. Two fine crystal brandy snifters sat on the small table next to the settee. She came up to him and put her arms around his neck, looking into his face. There were more lines there than there used to be, but the lips and eyes showed the same feelings that she had always seen.

"Sit down Matt and lets enjoy a little Napoleon." She went to the dresser to retrieve a glass decanter that matched the snifters and carefully poured a generous measure into each.

He was sitting on the settee now, removing his boots, she noticed him fighting with the right one – he always had difficulty with that. She knelt down to help ease it from his foot, then took both boots and placed them in the corner by the dresser. She had already loosened her hair and changed into more comfortable night attire with an attractive pale blue robe covering the more flimsy gown underneath. To him it was as if she floated across the room to his side, then, taking up the two glasses she handed one to him.

"Here's to us Cowboy."

He smiled to her guiltily, he knew how she was going to feel about his upcoming assignment, but didn't want to tell her just yet. Unable to say anything suitable he touched her glass with his before taking a swallow. The soft warm liquid was always a welcome way to relax before bed. He had missed this time so much during the last few weeks. She allowed him a little a little longer to get comfortable before starting her quest for information.

"So tell me about that nice young man you were talking to this evening. Looks like he has a pretty young wife."
"Yeh, he said they've only been married about a month."

"Strange that they should be way out here, looks like they both belong in Chicago or New York or somewhere."

"I'm not sure where they came here from."

"You said he's an engineer or something," she leaned forward and casually put her glass on the table so she could take his calloused hand in hers. The poor man was tired she could see that, and this was like child's play to her. She felt a little guilty taking advantage like this, but it may be her only chance.

"A surveyor."
"Oh that's right. What does a surveyor do?" An innocently asked question to which she already knew the answer.
"It's his job to determine the best route for the railroad to take. You know trains run best if there are no steep inclines along the path the track takes and it is up to him to use maps and other equipment to figure that out."

She reached forward and poured a little more brandy into his glass, and added a little to hers – but not as much.

"Isn't the Santa Fe supposed to go from here west towards Denver."

"Yes that's right." The warm glow from the fire, and the softness of the alcohol were making him feel more relaxed than he expected. He could sense her soft gentle hand against his arm, he could almost go to sleep right here and feel perfectly content.

"That young man doesn't look like he's ever been west of Washington. How is he going to find his way to Denver?"
Big warning bells went off in his head.

"Let's not talk about that tonight. There are much more important things."

She had found what she needed to know, just by his reaction, she had no need to make him say it. She knew where Denver was, and he had told her that Fort Wallace was northwest. At least that was more or less the right direction.

She smiled to herself and allowed him to lead her to the bed. He had been so busy while all those Texans were in town that their nights together had been few and far between. She felt his hands easing the robe from her shoulders as she loosened his gunbelt. What followed was something that had grown out of an early passionate love into a quiet soft appreciation of each other's bodies. She just wanted to enjoy this moment of closeness and worry about tomorrow when it came.