Inside the General Store, Mr. Jonas put a bag of chocolates and a copy of A Grand Matter into a small box and wrapped it securely. "Here you go Miss Kitty. I hope your friend likes her gift."

"Thank you, I'm sure she will." Kitty took the box with one hand, while gripping an envelope tightly with the other. The letter it contained had not been easy to write. "I'm off to the post office to send it for her birthday."

Kitty hurried down the street, but it was the letter she was clutching, not the gift box, that was uppermost in her mind. She was pondering how long it would take the letter to reach Washington DC, when a cat darted out of an alley. Startled, she tripped and dropped the box.

"Here, let me help you." Caleb Carson shoved the large, thick envelope he was carrying under his arm and rushed over. "I have a feeling we're both headed to the post office. Allow me to carry your box."

"Thank you Mr. Carson, I'm mailing it to a friend in the town of Ballard. My guess is you're mailing that thick envelope to your publisher in New York City."

"Correct. It's the next chapter of my book. I send one chapter at a time, even though I could send more. My publisher and I play a little game. If he's slow in paying me I'm slow in sending chapters." Carson chuckled as they walked. "Oh, and please call me Caleb."

"All right, and it's Kitty."

They finished their business in the post office at the same time and Caleb held the door open for her. "Kitty, I wonder if I could ask a favor of you? I'm afraid it's an unusual request."

Kitty smiled crookedly. "Try me." Caleb could have no idea of the outlandish requests she'd gotten from men during her years of working saloons.

"As a writer, I want to be able to describe the styles women shop for and wear in this part of the country. I went into the dress shop yesterday, and let's just say that the ladies who run the shop were not welcoming." He laughed, "In fact they were downright hostile. I don't blame them. They're not used to men entering their shop, particularly strange men. My explanation that I was a writer was met with suspicion, so I quickly left. So, I wondered if you'd accompany me to the Dodge City Dress Shop and make an introduction."

Kitty threw her head back and laughed. " Mr. Ca – I mean Caleb, that sounds like fun. Right this way."

Caleb took her arm. "Thank you Kitty."

Matt

Matt was grimy and trail worn when he rode into the town of Atoka in Oklahoma territory. He fit right in. Abraham Davidson had said that the Bond gang was likely holed up somewhere in Oklahoma, and this was the 4th dusty, ride-through town he'd stopped in. He was starting to think that finding the gang could take months.

He rode down the dirt road called Main Street, taking everything in. A few grizzled old men were talking and spitting outside a squat building. The sign in the window said: General Store open Monday through Saturday. A smaller sign underneath read: Sunday service held here. Next door was a dilapidated saloon named, The Golden Palace. A skinny woman with sunken cheeks leaned against the wall outside, wearing a dingy red dress and greasy make up. Her tired eyes followed him as he rode by. He reached the stable at the end of the street, and something caught his attention. A narrow shack next to the stable seemed to be a telegraph station. He felt a touch of hope. This could be the right town. Sending wires would be the fastest way for an informant in Washington DC to get word to a gang in Oklahoma territory. A talk with the telegraph operator was in order.

A gray haired man limped out of the stable. "Name's Jeb, if ya want ya horse tended it'll be a nickel a day."

"Here's for the first day. " Matt handed over a coin, and led his horse inside. "Let me ask you something, Jeb. Kind of unusual for a place this size to have a telegraph station, isn't it?"

"Got put in when the war between the states ended. Indians in these parts fought with the rebels, after the war the government took a bunch of land from them and put the thing in. The minister tends it, name's Reverend Torch. He ain't got much else to do except on Sundays." Jeb pointed to a man curled up in the corner of a stall, snoring loudly and clutching an empty whiskey bottle. Matt shook his head. Talking to the telegraph operator would have to wait. "Jeb, is the Golden Palace the only saloon in town?"

"Yep, don't see why we'd need another."

"Thanks. I think I'll go have a beer." Since he couldn't talk to the telegraph operator, the saloon would be the best place to get a feel for things. Pausing outside the batwing doors of the Golden Palace, he peered into the barely lit barroom. Kitty turned towards him with the familiar smile that was for him alone. He closed his eyes to get a grip, and took a deep breath before pushing through the doors.

Dodge

Caleb Carson pushed open door of the Dodge City Dress Shop and the overhead bells jangled. Monica and Mable Berg looked up from their sewing and saw Kitty with the mysterious man who'd been by before.

Monica, the older, dark-haired sister nervously stood up. "Kitty, what brings you here? Your new dress isn't due for a week."

"Oh, I'm not checking on the dress. I just want to introduce my friend, Mr. Caleb Carson, and show him around. Mr. Carson is a writer from New York City. He's interested in details about lady's fashions to make his writing realistic.

Monica, the plump, younger sister popped up to her feet, "Oh, Mr. Carson, you were in before." She giggled, "I'm sorry, we didn't know what to make of you. Please look around."

"Thank you ladies. He smiled at Kitty, "Well, educate me on the styles worn by women in the great west."

She went through the racks of dresses the sisters were working on, pointing out styles, colors and fabrics. She was tentative at first, but as he asked questions and took notes, she decided if he was feigning interest, he was the best actor she'd ever seen.

When they were finished he went to Monica and Mable and offered a slight bow. "Thank you ladies. You run a fine shop. I have tremendous respect for women who run businesses."

He tucked his notebook into his pocket and escorted Kitty out the door. "Kitty, that was very helpful. In writing, details make a story real. Please allow me to express my gratitude by taking you to dinner tonight, or tomorrow, or lunch tomorrow?" He laughed, "Your choice."

"Dinner tonight would be nice.

Matt

Matt leaned against the bar of the Golden Palace and signaled the bartender. "Beer."

"10 cents – pay first. That the rule."

Matt knew he was being overcharged but dropped a coin on the bar and was served a warm, headless beer. He took a sip and glanced around. The emaciated women he'd seen outside in the dingy red dress, was slumped in a chair, nervously fingering the front of her neck. She was warily, even fearfully, watching the 4 men seated at the only occupied table. He followed her gaze. His gut told him they were the men he was looking for. Sipping his so-called beer, he watched them carefully. A heavy set, dark haired man with a bushy mustache was obviously in charge. He would be the one to impress. The youngest man, who looked barely old enough to shave, was talking excitedly and gesturing grandly. The other two, one thin and one stocky, quietly drank their whiskey. Matt could see the boss growing annoyed with the young man's chatter, and decided to make an entrance. He walked over to the talkative youngster and shoved his shoulder. "Billy, Billy Brown, I'm glad I ran into you. You owe me $20, remember?"

The young man scowled. "I don't know who the hell you are. I ain't no Billy, and I don't owe you nothing."

"Come on sonny, a kid like you should learn to pay his debts."

"Don't you call me sonny, you jackass."

"Just hand over my money, and I'll forget the name calling. I try to be patient with youngsters." Matt's calm tone wasn't lost on the boss.

The young man spit at Matt's feet. "I'm more man than you."

Matt rolled his eyes, "Sonny boy, just give me my $20. You don't want to be messing with grown-ups." The young man jumped to his feet, hand moving to his gun.

The mustached man stood and pushed him down firmly. "Sit and shut your mouth. What did I tell you about getting into stupid fights? I'll take care of this." He turned to Matt. "$20 don't seem worth dying for stranger."

"I won't die for $20, he will if he's stupid enough to draw on me."

"Don't be too sure. He's good with a gun. I've seen him."

"You haven't seen me."

The boss man shrugged and started to sit, but sure that Matt's focus was on the young hothead, threw a punch at his jaw. Matt blocked it and backhanded him, sending him flying. The other three men jumped to their feet. Matt's gun flew from his holster. "Hold it."

The three men froze. Their leader grinned as he got back on his feet rubbing his cheek. He extended his hand. "Name's Jason Bond. Folks call me JB. These are my cousins: Alex, Ben and the one you called Billy is Carl. You were wrong about him. An honest mistake I'm sure, and it don't matter. I like the way you handle yourself. I might be able to use a man with your abilities. It'll mean a lot more than $20. What's your name?"

"Matthew, Matthew Adams. If you think $20 is no big deal, why are you in a nothing place like this?"

"Well Matt there …"

"I said my name's Matthew." Matt locked eyes with JB.

"All right - Matthew. Follow us to our cabin, and give an ear to what I have to say." JB was impressed. Matthew seemed tough and fearless, but wouldn't fly off the handle like Carl did.

"Well, coming Matthew?"

"No reason why not. I'll get my horse from the stable."

"We'll meet you outside."

Matt left and JB walked over to the woman in the red dress. He grinned and gripped her by the throat, "Sorry Naomi, we have to go. See you next time." He roughly released her and walked off.

TBC