Interlude 1 – Dodge City, Kansas August 14, 1883
In the small hours of the night a single light flickered to life above the Long Branch. Kitty had tried going to sleep hours before but the heated conversation between herself and Matt preyed on her mind. That their dinner date had been interrupted by yet another brawl had been the last straw.
He'll never commit, and I can't handle coming behind a badge every...damned...day...for years and years. "Until he's shot to death," a small part of her conscience niggled but she didn't let herself think about that now. If she did, she'd never do what she knew needed done.
"He'll never learn, so I don't need to stay and try to teach him. It's like talking to a barn wall anyway!" She packed her trunk automatically, with little thought to what went in it or how it landed. By the time she'd finished, the sun had just begun peeking over the horizon and she could smell coffee perking downstairs.
"Maybe I'll go all the way to New Orleans," Kitty mumbled, peering out her window and across the prairie. The town ended abruptly, like an unfinished drawing, at the cattle pens and then petered out into flat brown emptiness. "At least they have trees there."
Sam was already at the bar, polishing glasses. His "Good morning, Miss Kitty" died on his lips when he saw the tight, closed expression on her face. "Wonder what the Marshal did this time," he sighed. "Miss Kitty, wait a minute!" he called, pointing to the bit of lace trailing from the trunk.
"Oh ..." she practically growled. She opened the trunk to cram everything into place while Sam chivalrously turned his face. "You can turn around now, Sam," she said, a smile in her voice in spite of the turmoil in her heart. "I need to get away and I'm leaving on the first stage out of here. Don't tell the Marshal, I'll see to the arrangements myself."
"You sure, Miss Kitty? I can at least get your trunk." He poured her a cup of coffee. "Don't think the Marshal will like that much. You plannin' to come back?"
She sipped her coffee and took a moment to collect her wits. She chose her words carefully but the bitterness spilled over. "At this point, Sam, I don't much care what that -- that walking target thinks!" More quietly she admitted, "I guess I'll be back eventually, but I don't know when. I just need time out of this place."
"I don't think I'll tell him that, Miss. You could use a vacation, that's for sure; it's been dry lately. Go someplace nice a while."
Kitty frowned deeply into her cup, but composed a smile for Sam when glanced questioningly at her.
Away from him. It pulled at her heart to even think that, but it was still true. She'd been waiting for years, seen him shot or otherwise injured --- sometimes nearly fatally --- dozens of times and she couldn't deal with it any more. She'd vowed many times not to go anywhere with him, had even left Dodge completely once but he always drew her back, one way or the other. Not this time. She wanted fun and intellectual conversation, not the drunks and the fighting and the death.
"New Orleans seems like a good option," she decided, motioning for Sam to refill her cup. He'd search for her, and he'd look in St. Louis first. New Orleans would be foreign territory for him and it might be weeks before he'd decide to check there. He wouldn't know where to start, either, since she'd never mentioned exactly where her cousins lived or what their names were.
"Heck, a few speak nothing but Creole French. Let's see him interrogate that." The thought gave her a twinge of guilty pleasure and she bit back a laugh.
"Well, I can take care of the Long Branch for you," Sam offered, flustered, "but what am I supposed to tell Doc and Festus? They'll worry too."
That gave her pause. Doc was like a father and Festus a dear old friend. They didn't deserve to worry about her; it had been Matt's screw-up, not theirs. "I'll leave a note," she said. "You can give it to Doc --- just in case --- but tell him he better not tell Matt a damned thing."
He passed her some paper and the stub of a pencil. It had to be short – there wasn't much to write on and not much to say, really --- but it was better than nothing at all. She wished there was more to say, more she could have done, but this happened so fast.
"Gone to New Orleans to visit family. Can find me there if needed. Sam has the address."
She signed it and gave it to the bartender. "The address is in my ledgers," she told him. "If something happens, Doc might need that." Kitty didn't know what could possibly call her back to Dodge before she was ready, but she felt a little better providing for that contingency. She swallowed the last bit of her coffee. "What time does the first stage load up, Sam?"
"In about half an hour, Miss Kitty. I can get your trunk if you're set on goin'."
"I am, thank you. I am."
Kitty grabbed her parasol in one hand, the reticulum in the other, and walked down the boardwalk in the direction of the depot. A tiny sliver of sun gilded the horizon and the air was already heavy with the promise of another dusty, muggy day. The loan lamplighter was going about turning the street lamps off. She ducked against a store front until he'd passed and then kept walking.
"It will be this hot in New Orleans, and humid to boot. But that's nothing," she said to herself. The little bit of sun already created mirages ahead on the horizon. There was little else about the horizon to recommend itself. "Matt can stay here and rot for all I care."
She hadn't meant to speak aloud but Sam asked, "Sorry, Miss?"
"Nothing Sam, I'm sorry."
She thought longingly of afternoon lawn parties and evenings spent out on the balcony drinking cold iced tea with sprigs of mint fresh from the garden while the breeze from the Gulf teased away the heat of the day. Her mood softened and she began thinking she would simply enjoy herself rather than leaving to confound Matt.
"I will have fun, for a change."
Sam smiled fondly at her. "I hope you do, Miss Kitty. You deserve some fun."
Oh! She hadn't meant to say that out loud, either, but she smiled warmly at Sam as he brushed a little dust off her trunk. "Should be along shortly! I'm told it's goin' to Topeka first."
Kitty stood at the depot watching the stage hands load her suitcases. Just a few more minutes and she'd be --- "Oh, damn!" she swore, sighting the tall silhouette of the big marshal marching toward her. She'd been hoping to leave Dodge without an argument and that didn't look likely.
"Where do you think you're headed?" Matt asked, his tone dangerous. "You didn't say a thing about leaving town and we didn't finish our discussion last night."
"Yes, we did," she said through tight lips. "I need to get away for a while." she brushed futilely at the skirts of her traveling suit. "I'm sick of the dust and the dirt and the fighting and the cowboys...."
And you. What she didn't say hung in the air between them like a storm cloud. "I'm going, Matt."
"How long?" he asked, hat in hand, one boot tip shuffling random patterns in the dust. He knew he couldn't argue her out of it; he understood her reasons but felt powerless to change them. She knew the way it was when we decided to be together, he thought. If she wants to leave, nothing I can do will stop her.
There was one thing, but it wasn't something Matt was willing to do. The badge would only come off when he got too old to uphold the law...or when someone finally outdrew him. Which would happen first, he couldn't say. Matt didn't think much about the future, and that was part of the problem here.
She set her shoulders, inuring herself to the forlorn figure standing there. "Six months, maybe a year. Maybe more, I don't know." She could sense him thinking of how to keep her here, and she wasn't going to fall for any of it. Not this time, not again. The one thing she wanted, he wouldn't do and they both knew it.
He nodded, once simply. The gesture conveyed much: sorrow, regret, acceptance. "I'll miss you," Matt said. "It won't be the same around here without you."
She couldn't look at the pleading in his blue eyes for long; it was why she was still around now. Instead Kitty gazed down at the dirty planks; she found herself looking back into his face, crumpled with anger and worry, anyway. "Thank you, Matt." She felt like it was the worst, least think she could say but she couldn't give him any further encouragement. Why couldn't you be more ... eloquent?
Kitty sighed and stroked Matt's face, rough as it is with beard stubble and wind-abused skin. He'd gotten dressed without bothering to shave, something he nearly always took time to do. "You know I like to get down to New Orleans to see the new fashions. Besides, I'd like to catch up with my cousin Cilla. Last letter I'd had, she was pregnant.
She'd best have had that baby by now!"
Matt pushed his Stetson back and scratched his head. "Can't say as I'd grudge a baby a visit like that, Kitty. But look, be careful. I'd escort you…."
She sighed. "I know you can't come with me. Your job is here. I'll come back. I'm always careful," Kitty told him flippantly, deliberately tossing back one of his own choice phrases at him. He winced and she regretted her sharp tongue. Kitty stood on tiptoe and kissed him soundly on the mouth. "That's the kiss. We'll make up when I get home."
"I guess so. It's dangerous out there…" Matt had started to say, "for a woman alone" but thought the better of it. Best to end this on a positive note, not put any pressure on her. "Give your cousin my best." Matt traced his fingers over his lips in an unconscious gesture, a slow smile lighting his face.
"I will, Matt. Look, they've finished loading the stage. I've got to go."
The stage driver hollered to the horses, cracked the reins, and the stage moved out. Kitty didn't look back because she knew if she did, she'd see Matt standing there staring after the stage until it became a dot on the horizon. Instead she tucked her skirts in and tried to get comfortable for the long ride.
She had the stage to herself, for once, during most of the first leg of the journey. Not many people would want to travel in the dust and heat which seemed part and parcel for this time of year, she thought. By the time they reached Wichita, where they would switch out the horses, a fine film of dust covered everything. The grit had gotten past her veil; Kitty could taste it in her teeth. It had turned the lovely rust colored traveling suit into an indeterminate shade of mustard yellow. All she wanted was a bath and a non-moving bed but at least one of those would have to wait until they pulled into Topeka.
The driver picked up one or two travelers at the way stations but none of them troubled her after five minutes of monosyllabic answers to their attempts to get acquainted. She concluded listening to the elderly cattleman and the dapper gambler maundering on about their business in Topeka was a small price to pay for remaining otherwise unmolested.
At Wichita, Kitty excused herself from their determined presence and went in search of tea and lunch. Before she did so, however, she had business of her own to conclude. She asked the ticket vender at the stage depot, "Where can I send a telegram?"
A beefy man with the balding hair streaming sweat in the sweltering heat barely looked up at her and didn't stop his writing as he answered, "Three doors down, miss. Mr. Steele runs the telegram post."
"Thank you, mister." She rewarded him with a tight smile and set off to send Matt a telegram. It doesn't change anything, she told herself, denying she missed him. I just want to let him know I'm all right.
The blindingly hot heat backed off as she ducked into a door, but the heat backed off in the telegraph office. Inside, the office smelled of clean new wood, ink, and paper. Kitty's eyes adjusted quickly and she smiled at the short, earnest man who came to the counter.
"May I help you, miss?"
"I'd like to send a telegram to Dodge City, addressed to the US Marshal there," she replied, fiddling with her reticulum and watching the man's expression.
It didn't change and some inner part of her relaxed; she hadn't been recognized. "No problem." Grinning, he got out a form and pencil for her. Do you need ---" he asked tentatively, not wanting to offend her.
Kitty didn't take offense, knowing that many women regardless of upbringing could still neither read nor write. "No, thank you. I can fill it out." She sweetened the correction with another smile which set the man at ease and he left her alone. Kitty chewed on the end of the pencil and chose her words carefully; she didn't want to give him encouragement but she didn't want to leave him worrying either. Finally she settled on a simple, direct message:
"HAVE REACHED WICHITA SAFELY. ALL WELL. KITTY."
She nodded. That's enough. She passed the message to the clerk with a generous tip. He brightened as she turned to leave but she barely heard his call of, "You're welcome, miss!" as she walked the board sidewalk back toward the stage depot. Digging into her reticulum, she checked the time on a small jeweled thing matt had brought home for her from Kansas City a few years back. An hour and a half until the stage pulls out. She decided it left enough time to freshen up and grab a decent meal, maybe change her clothes.
Kitty walked away from the depot, knowing that the better class establishments would be well away from the depot and the Deadline, until she found what she was looking for. To her surprise, there was a woman working behind the desk. I'd like to inquire about a bath and a room for a brief time. I just came in on the stage from Dodge City."
The woman looked her over with a shine of sympathy in her eyes. You're dusty enough from that trip, that's sure. We can offer you a room and a bath. I'll have something brought up for you to eat when you've finished and you can stay here until the stage is ready."
The price was more than Kitty would have liked to pay, but she knew it would revive her spirits. She slid the coins cross the desk and the woman rang a small silver bell. Shortly Kitty found herself being led to a small retiring room on the second floor where behind a screen a hip bath full of lavender scented water gently steamed.
It felt like pure heaven after the jolting stage ride and she sighed in bliss. Tension flowed out of her body and Kitty regained her spirit of adventure, especially when she spied the hot coffee which had been brought up to her. It tasted bitter, thick and hot, but it felt good going down.
A chambermaid, a gal not much older than those she employed at the Long Branch but one who had obviously never been anywhere near a saloon, helped fasten her corsets, button up her dress, and fix her hair. Kitty elected to avoid the dining room crowd and had her lunch sent up. Nothing fancy, just cold sandwiches and stew, but it tasted good because she hadn't had to make it herself…and there was no prairie dust or grit in it.
She sighed and gazed out the window. Kitty liked being on her own, but she kept thinking how much more enjoyable an uninterrupted trip would be with Matt. Finally she shook her head. "You're on vacation. You don't owe anyone." She checked her watch one more time, trotted downstairs, and made her way back to the depot.
Sweltering heat waves shimmered up from the boardwalk and she sought the shadows of the platform. Within a few minutes, she had boarded the second stage and settled in for another long, bumpy ride. The Wichita stage promised to be just as miserable as the ride in from Dodge, but Kitty felt somewhat revived after her bath and lunch.
A young man, the single other occupant of the stage, had joined them. Kitty didn't much like how he looked, though he seemed polite enough. He had a swarthy complexion which didn't go well with his straw colored hair and a series of horrendous scars. One ran along the base of his throat, the other across one eye to the jaw line. It was those eyes which bothered her, however. They were the eyes of a killer and they didn't belong to someone so young.
Kitty, nodding politely but giving him no further encouragement, composed herself for a nap. The stage had passed into a wild, lonely stretch of country --- no fences or even a sod house to be seen --- and that made her nervous. For some reason, this leg of the journey didn't have a man riding shotgun. Probably because there's no gold or bonds to protect this time, she reflected bitterly. There'd been talk among the passengers at Wichita about robberies and ambushes occurring more frequently along this strip of badland.
The dubious moral quality of her lone companion didn't help matters any. He kept darting nervous glances in the direction of the driver and further up the road. It's almost as though he's expecting something. I don't think I want to know what.
Finally the young man cleared his throat and addressed her directly. "Where you from?" he asked, ignoring the crossed arms and prim expression which would have told any observant man with manners that Kitty didn't wish to engage in small talk. "You from Dodge?" he pressed.
"Yes, I rode the stage from Dodge," she responded sharply, hoping that would shut him up.
"It's nice there."
"What?"
"In Dodge. It's a nice town."
He's really beginning to grate on my nerves. The last thing Kitty wanted to do was discuss the merits of Dodge City. She wasn't at all in a charitable mood toward the dusty, rowdy cow town. "You've obviously never been to Dodge City," she responded dryly.
"Might be nicer if the law weren't so rough, maybe?"
Kitty's expression hardened. "Is there some reason you'd like it otherwise?"
"Not really. Just heard the law's pretty rough there, that's all." Kitty clenched her jaw and simply nodded. "Heard he's slowing down," the kid continued conversationally, "that he's got hisself a woman and he's more concerned about losin' her than losin' his hide."
"You seem to hear an awful lot!"
The man held up his hands. "No need to be tetchy about it, ma'am! Seems to me though that a lawman with his reputation would be smarter than that. Family's a liability in that line of work."
"Indeed." Kitty didn't like this line of conversation at all. The young man clearly wanted something from her. For all she could tell, he knew who she was.
In an appalling breach of propriety, he reached out and grasped her by the wrist. It felt like a vise closing. "Heard his woman was a redhead, like you." He paused, watching her reaction. "Maybe you're the marshal's woman?"
She tried to pull away and hissed, "Let me go!"
In retrospect, Kitty knew what was coming but at the time she didn't associate the horses' screams with her unwanted fellow passenger's actions. He whistled, high and shrill like a bird of prey, and then suddenly he wasn't there at all. She felt the stage tilt and then her whole world began to heave and tumble. Kitty's head cracked on something hard and she mercifully lost consciousness.
Sound returned and the first thing she heard sent chills down her spine; she knew that sound. Comanche war whoop. Kitty didn't move but kept her ears alert as she tried to identify the purpose of the wreck. As the bandits got closer, she realized they were speaking English.
"…weren't supposed to kill her!" someone shouted angrily. "We needed her as a hostage."
The answering voice sounded cold, almost indifferent. "It'll bring that marshal out after us all the same. He'll come looking for her and when he finds the body, he'll make mistakes. Then" the chuckle belonged to a madman and sent an involuntary chill down Kitty's spine "I'll kill him."
Barely breathing, she held perfectly still. This couldn't be happening, but it was. Her mind raced with a dozen schemes to escape. None of them would work. Finally, Kitty decided her best hope of surviving would be to lie where she'd fallen and continue the ruse of being dead. She could worry about survival in this hostile land and rescue later; right now, she just needed to remain alive and unnoticed.
Not for the first time, she wished she had been taking this trip with Matt. If Matt were here, he'd chase these scavenges off. She wanted to sigh but didn't dare. Matt wasn't here and that was her doing. In fact, the telegram she'd sent pretty much assured that he wouldn't start looking for her or the stage until someone informed him it had never made it to Topeka…and that could take weeks since there'd been no gold shipments or bonds involved.
I did this…to myself. The thought made her want to weep.
Whoever had waylaid the stage didn't spend much time digging through the wreckage. Their goal seemed to have been achieved with Kitty's apparent death.
"Shouldn't we do the decent thing and bury her?" That voice she recognized as belonging to the young man who had boarded the stage with her. She felt grateful she'd misjudged to the extent that he still had some modicum of humanity left in his heart.
But I don't want them doing that. They'll either bury me alive or discover that I didn't die in the wreck and then I'll be a prisoner. Kitty couldn't suppress a shudder at that thought; these men would abuse her badly before Matt came to the rescue. And then he might not even want me back. Hell, he might not want me back anyway after the way I behaved. She'd left before and sometimes she'd even left mad at him, but she'd never left without giving a definite date for her return. Matt had known what that meant; she'd seen it in his eyes as she boarded the stage.
"We need that body. What do you think?"
"No." Again, that same cold voice. "We don't desecrate the dead. To do so would be to stoop to the white man's level." Someone reached down and, to Kitty's horror, plucked the cameo Matt had given her from her neck. That same someone used a dirty Bowie knife to saw off one of her tresses. "This should be evidence enough. He'll come."
Frustration and righteous anger burned her. "Go ahead, take what's mine, you…." She bit down on her muttering because she feared she'd called attention to herself. Kitty counted herself fortunate that the storm chose that moment to break. Thunder rumbled like the wrath of God and a blinding flash heralded the opening of the heavens as cold rain sluiced down upon her. Before long it was punctuated by a chilling wind and the occasional piece of button sized hail.
"Let's get out of here!"
When she could be certain her assailants had gone, Kitty took the chance to cry. She wept hard for a long time and then, curled in the remains of the stage, she fell asleep.
He'll come for me. He will!