Not a wisp of air floated across the prairie to ease the relentless midday heat. Matt Dillon swayed in the saddle and ignored the blurring of his vision. He'd lost track of time and that scintillating haze that shimmered in the distance could be nothing more then the super heated grasslands; it could certainly not be fatigue. The mighty marshal from Dodge City didn't have time to be exhausted. He simply would not allow it.
Kitty was here someplace.
Hurt.
Hungry.
At the mercy of this same fiery sun.
Tender skin, fragile and soft. Burned to a dark bronze red. Blistered. Oozing.
Delicate flesh. Torn by brush. Rocks.
Festering.
Can't rest. Push. Himself. Buck.
Wishing.
Thought of her.
Not himself.
First.
Purgatory.
If he never found her, he already knew what hell was like.
It was the high-pitched shriek of the dog, not the sidestepping of Buck, that brought him out of the doldrums.
"Brewster!"
A sandy haired man aimed a rifle at Matt's chest.
Matt grabbed the saddle horn to steady himself. "Whoa, there, Mister."
The barrel sagged when the blond man saw the badge pinned to Matt's dusty rose-colored shirt.
"Brewster! Stop it." The short haired mutt pulled its black tail between two gray hind legs and skulked next to his master. "Sorry, don't get many people coming this way. Guess old Brewster and I just don't know how to act."
Matt heard one man speak but he was seeing three. And an equal number of dogs. "My horse could use some water."
"Help yourself." The slender man leaned the rifle against the dry cracked wood of a lean-to. "Name's Adam Frazer."
"Matt Dillon. Dodge City."
"Kansas?" Adam crossed his well-muscled arms over his bare chest. "Hear tell that's a mighty wild town."
Matt tried to respond but nothing, not words or even a grunt, escaped.
"Looks like you need some attention yourself, Marshal."
"Ya."
There was a watering trough shaded by trees with bright green leaves; the low moans of cattle in the distance; and the tantalizing smell of cooking beef. He had the passing sensation that this was some kind of mirage until he heard his stomach growl.
"You're welcome to sit down to supper with us. My Eve makes enough food for an army. Spend the night, too."
Push.
Kitty.
"Your horse could sure use the rest. He's in bad shape. Step down and I'll tend him."
Mirages didn't carry on such realistic conversations.
Matt lifted his right leg over Buck's broad back but couldn't recall his leg being quite so heavy the last time he dismounted. But then, he couldn't remember the last time he'd walked on his own two feet.
Both feet on the ground, his legs gave out and only a quick grab for the horn and the apron of the saddle saved him from collapsing to the ground.
"Sure hate to be the one you're after. Must be some really bad waddy to drive you so hard." Adam loosened the cinch and pulled the saddle off the horses' back as if it had no more weight than a feather and proceeded to fling it over the highest rail of the fence. He shook the saddle blanket a half dozen times until no more dust flew.
"I'm looking for a woman."
Adam gave him his full attention.
"Belle Starr or Cattle Kate kind of woman?" Adam grinned.
Matt leaned against the fence. "Neither. She was in a stage wreck a while back. Twister."
Adam dipped inside the desiccated lean-to and came out with a currycomb and a brush. "Last storm was about a month ago."
Three deliberate strokes later, Adam added, "You think she survived?"
Matt could only look at the ground and hope this total stranger by the name of Adam Frazer couldn't see the sudden accumulation of moisture in his eyes.
"If she did, being out here all alone…" Adam let the end of that thought dangle in the darkening light. "This is tough country. The heat don't get you everything that crawls, flies, or walks on four legs will."
Matt let out a huge exhausted breath at the horrible picture Adam created.
"You been in that saddle for a month?"
A shrug.
"This lady must be pretty special to you."
She was.
She is. Matt corrected himself.
"Around back you'll find water, soap, a razor. My Eve won't let you in the door the way you look now."
Matt had a pretty good idea of how bad he looked. And smelled. Buck was just as bad, ribs and hipbones protruding from his flesh, cuts on his legs. They were quite a sight.
"I'd offer you a clean shirt but none of mine will fit those shoulders of yours."
"I might have a clean one in my saddle bag." He had no idea if he did or not. But he thought he did.
"Gona have slabs of the best beef this side of Denver. You get your mouth a watering, Mr. Marshal Matt Dillon." Adam slapped Matt on the back as they walked toward the small square house nestled under a large grove of willow trees. "Course, I don't mean to brag."
He didn't mean to brag? Matt was seeing only one man and one dog. Now. The water for washing and the razor for shaving brought him back to reality. This was no mirage.
"Our garden," Frazer pointed to his left toward perfectly straight rows of green just barely visible in the twilight. "Eve keeps it clean, waters it. Got a knack for growing things, that woman."
Matt was looking forward to meeting this super woman.
A mewling came from left of the cabin door. Kittens, confined within an open-topped box, were crawling over their mother's back to get to the milk spigots on her belly.
"The Calico Queen." Adam knelt by the box and petted the multicolored mother cat. The purr was loud enough to cut the still night air. "And her brood of six. Eve's got a name for each one of them."
The door opened and Matt could make out the thin shape of a woman wearing pants. He couldn't see her face; it was hidden in the shadows.
"Come on in, you two."
A low voice. For a woman.
Familiar.
Kitty's.
Matt held his breath.
"Eve, this is Matt Dillon, Marshal, from Dodge City, Kansas."
"Oh, I'll bet you have some good stories to tell about that town."
Eighteen words. He'd counted each one of them. It was her. But… was he dreaming? Hallucinating? Or just wishing? Wanting her so bad that he heard her voice in this woman?
Kitty Russell showed not one flicker of recognition as she turned and allowed the warm inside light to flood across her face.
Even if he didn't know this woman called Eve and her previous life as Kitty Russell, Matt would have instantly seen that she was infatuated with Adam Frazer. And Adam with her.
Matt watched. Wanting her to touch him like she used to.
Her lovely deep blue eyes followed Adam's every move. Matt wanted those adoring eyes for himself alone.
He heard the silky teasing tone of her voice.
It was all for Adam's pleasure.
Not for his.
In the setting of the Long Branch Saloon in Dodge City, Kitty would not have touched him so freely. Ever. Would never have let her eyes linger over the more personal and private parts of his body with a definite hunger bordering on lust. Would never have savored so obviously each and every expression that crossed his face and with such intensity of emotion.
But the worst part was that she would not have used that sultry tone of voice in front of strangers or friends. Saved it, instead, for the privacy of her bedroom. When they were two, alone, and together.
Kitty Russell was plain. Now. Kohl didn't line her eye lashes, deep blue shadow didn't bring out the sapphire of her eyes, the wealth of freckles were a brazen splash of deep amber across the bridge of her nose and the fullness of her cheeks, and the dusky pink of her lips natural, rather than the bright cherry red.
This was the real woman, the Kitty devoid of the embellishments of her trade and behaving in a way that belied no restrictions, no secretiveness. No enforced discretion.
The woman she would be if it were not for himself and his occupation.
She asked about Dodge City, if it was as bad as Adam said it was. He struggled to answer.
She asked why he was so far from Dodge. He couldn't fabricate a response and, thankfully, Adam didn't volunteer the information.
But she wasn't interested in Matt Dillon. Not really.
Adam.
"You'll stay in the lean-to, Matt. It ain't much but it'll keep the cold off you."
"Breakfast is at 7 a.m. Sharp."
Kitty Russell never got out of bed before 10 a.m.
Eve touched the back of her hand to Adam's cheek and raised her left eyebrow. "Don't be long, Adam."
Matt was well acquainted with what would follow as soon as Adam got back to the house.
And then it struck him.
Adam and Eve.
"She's the one you been looking for."
They walked on down to the wood frame shelter.
"By the way you look at her you were a lot more than friends."
Adam made two very flat, but extremely true, assertions.
Matt couldn't respond, the massive lump in his throat wouldn't allow it.