Morning light came early. Summer was only a month away. Matt rose and walked to the washroom to empty his bladder. It wasn't a large room, with the big tub in the middle taking most of the space, but standing next to the small window was a new piece of furniture. He ran his hand over the smooth unpainted wood of the shaving stand, clean towels and his own razor and brushes laid out ready for use. The stand was taller than any he'd ever used, and the small mirror was hung at just the right height for him to see his face without bending over. He poured water in the kettle and set it on Kitty's small stove, trying to be quiet as he added wood to the still-red coals inside.
"I put your shirts and things in the small chest, over behind your chair." Kitty was sitting up in bed, rumpled, naked, and yawning.
"How'd you get Ma Smalley to let you into my room?" he asked.
Kitty stretched and then shrugged, "Just told her I wanted to get some of your things."
"She lets just anyone into my room?"
"Not just anyone, I'd say, but she didn't object to me." Kitty said, "Honey, no one knows better than your landlady how few nights you spend in that room. She goes to change your sheets once a week, and finds the bed hasn't even been slept in. That's been goin' on for a long time." She hesitated just a moment, and then went on, "And remember Ma was there helping Doc when I lost the first baby. Doubt there's much she doesn't know."
"Guess that puts her on the list." He went over to pull out a drawer in the small chest. Neat piles of clean socks, underwear, and folded shirts met his eyes.
"What list is that?" Kitty asked, bending across the bed to rummage for her discarded nightgown. The sight of that completely did away with his composure, but she was back up and heading into the washroom before he could turn his thoughts to action. As the door closed behind her, he took out clean clothes and began to dress. It felt odd, coming to Kitty's room and not putting back on the clothes he'd worn in. Darned sight more comfortable this way, but what did he do with the dirty laundry? But Kitty had thought of that, too. "Hamper in there for you," she said, sailing out of the washroom and pointing behind her. "Big basket thing under the window. Ming Li will pick things up at the end of the week."
"And bring them back here?" Matt asked. "Guess that puts him on the list, too."
"We makin' a list?" she asked again.
"Yep." He took the kettle and poured warm water in his shaving basin. "You want some of this?"
"Yes, please." Kitty replied, and he poured the rest into her bowl before continuing, "I was just thinking this morning, layin' there, about all the people in Dodge who happen to know, for one reason or another, that the Marshal spends his nights with a certain red-haired saloon owner."
Kitty came in to wash and to watch him shave – the process endlessly fascinating to a woman. "Well, I suppose we would start with Doc. He said he suspected for years, and he certainly made leading comments for an awful long time."
"Which we ignored," Matt replied, rinsing his razor.
"Which we ignored," Kitty agreed.
"But I'd put Sam first on the list." Matt said. "He had to know I was up here – a lot of nights and a lot of mornings."
Kitty's face behind him was tender. "Sam's a good, true friend. Not sure if I could have run this business without him the last ten years. He knows a lot, but doesn't say a word, not one word. Sometimes I think he might be even more close-mouthed than a certain Marshal I know."
"And then there's Chester." Kitty went on, her eyes lighting up, "Oh, Matt, do you remember the first time he came knocking on my back door in the middle of the night? I didn't think a grown man could be that embarrassed."
Matt chuckled, "You should have seen him when I explained to him where he could find me, if he needed me that night. Almost made me ready to just sleep at the jail and forget the whole thing."
"Almost?" she enquired.
"But not quite." Matt replied. "Which puts Festus on the list. Festus is a lot less innocent than he lets on, Kitty. Didn't fret him a bit. He just said he'd try to be real quiet when he needed me."
Kitty was sitting at her dressing table now, making up her face, "And you know, Matt, that it wakes my girls when someone calls you out in the night."
"Do they sleep here? Somehow I thought…"
"Well, some do, some don't. It's not always pleasant to sleep in the same room where you entertain. Couple of the girls have places at one of the boarding houses, but Annie sleeps here – that's how she was around to help me when things turned bad last month – and so does Cora when she sleeps alone."
Matt sat down to pull his boots on. "So over the years every working girl in this town has likely heard about the Marshal heading up or down your back stairs." The thought was not a pleasant one.
Kitty, however, took it pretty casually. "More than likely. At least they know I have someone up in my rooms. Probably wouldn't know for sure it was you, any particular night, unless they happened to hear you called and then go out."
"Lord, Kitty, I don't know what's worse, them knowing it's me or thinking it's a bunch of different men!"
"What about Newly, Matt? Does he go on your list?" Kitty asked moving away from the question of her girls.
"I honestly don't know, Kitty. I've never had to tell him to find me here at night, he doesn't sleep at the jail." Matt pondered, "But he's a bright young man, and he uses his eyes."
"So after we add Manuel, who delivers the meals from Delmonicos, and Ming Li who picks up the laundry, and old Carmela who cleans the upstairs rooms for me…"
Matt settled his hat on his head, and opened the door for her, "Then I guess it doesn't make much difference who watches me walk down into the barroom. They've all known for years."
"Oh, no, Matt," Kitty protested, "There's at least five folks who arrived on yesterday's stage. They might not have heard yet!"
Kitty was laughing and Matt was trying not to fume as they descended the stairs to Sam's good coffee and now familiar morning greeting.
Later that morning, Kitty sat in the bar with her books spread out in front of her. It was early still, but the day was already warm. Annie came over with a new Blue Willow pot of coffee for Kitty's tray. "Miss Kitty? Can I ask you something?"
"Sure, Annie. Sit down with me here." Kitty glanced around the empty barroom. Sam was carefully washing and wiping glasses in the far corner. She poured the girl a cup of coffee. "What's on your mind?"
Annie hesitated a moment, sipping the strong black coffee. "Well, ma'am, since I came back to the barroom, I get… I get asked a lot more than I used to."
You still sayin' no?
Yes ma'am, I am. But, even though they're asking more, they're, well, they're not makin' a fuss about it when I tell them no. And if someone starts whining at me, well, the local gents take him off and buy him a drink and talk to him." Annie's eyes twinkled, "You think they've all heard about my promise to my dying mamma?"
Kitty's eyes returned that sparkle of pure enjoyment. "That the only line you use, Annie?"
Annie sat with her hands clasped in her lap and her eyes modestly downcast, "Oh, no, Miss Kitty. There's that cowboy back in Texas who's gonna marry me soon as he brings the herd in from Amarillo. He's a strong fella, that cowboy, got bright yellow hair and he's big and quick with his gun." She shook her head in mock sadness, "Not sure what would happen if he got back and found me with some other man."
Both women laughed loud enough to draw the brief attention of Sam. He glanced at them sitting alone together laughing and then shrugged. Wished he knew what could make a woman laugh like that.
But after exchanging a few more useful lines, some of which Annie carefully stored away in her mind for future use, Kitty's face turned serious. "Annie you really don't know what's keeping the boys in line, do you? Or why more of them are asking?"
She shook her head.
"They're askin' you because no matter what anyone says or doesn't say, some of them still think you went upstairs with the Marshal, and that would make you pretty special." Annie's eyes lifted to Kitty's face in shock, and she began to blush deeply as Kitty continued, "And the reason nobody insists, and our local gents don't let them insist, is exactly the same."
"How do you… how do you know all that, Miss Kitty?" Annie asked
"Because for years that's exactly what Matt Dillon did for me, Annie." She answered quietly and without a trace of embarrassment.
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Kitty was new at the Long Branch, and someone new, especially when she was bright, and sassy, and beautiful, had the chance for a lot of business. She smiled, and chatted, and carried drinks, and tonight she smiled some more and shook her head to each suggestion that a trip upstairs would be entertaining for them both. She'd started to bleed today, and that put her out of commission for a few days, as well as relieving her mind that she'd managed another month without getting pregnant.
She didn't much like that part of her job, but she did like the extra money, and she did like the fact that Bill never tried to make her take on customers if she didn't want to. His job was selling liquor, and that's where he made his money. The extra that came in from the girls was fine, and he was strict about seeing that he was paid for everyone who went upstairs, but it wasn't his main business and he more allowed it than managed it.
Kitty did like the saloon work. She liked the laughter and the banter with the cowboys and adding a little fun to their lives. She liked dealing for them, and she liked the money she won. Most of them were good sorts, even if they were a little free with their hands, and most of them took no for an answer if she said it firmly enough and kindly enough. And when she said yes, well, most of them didn't want much or take long to do it.
But some of the men were a problem. She sighed when she saw Mac Vickers come into the barroom. Mac ran one of the stockyards west of town - big man in Dodge, with what amounted to big money for a small town. Mac had liked what he saw when the new girl came into the Long Branch at the beginning of the month, and he'd walked her upstairs at least twice a week. He hadn't been too rough, yet, but he was demanding, and determined to have what he wanted when he wanted it. He didn't ask. He just told her what to do. She knew he was dangerous to her.
Kitty went over to the bar to stand next to Bill Pence, hoping that it might make things a little easier, but it didn't. Mac walked over and took her arm in his hand. "C'mon, Red."
"Not tonight, Mac," she told him firmly.
Vickers ignored her, pulling her away from the bar and towards the stairs. Kitty shot a look at Bill, and then wrenched her arm free from Vickers and stepped back. "I said no, Mac. Some other time, maybe." Vickers eyes were hard although his mouth was smiling, "Now you know better than that, Red. Stop making a fuss."
This was sure to end badly, Kitty knew. Most likely with him hitting her, down here in the bar, if she protested further, and almost surely upstairs if she did not. Given the choice, and the hope that some of the more decent cowboys might come to her aid, she elbowed Vickers hard in the stomach and tried again to pull away. He didn't let go of her arm, and she saw him raise his hand. Closed her eyes waiting for the blow, but it didn't fall.
She opened her eyes to see the big Marshal gripping Vickers upraised wrist, and she backed off as soon as the hand on her arm loosened. "Lady said no, Mac," came Dillon's quiet voice.
"The lady, Marshal, will do as she's told and you can just stay out of this." Vickers tone was sharp. He tried to pull his arm away, but found it held in an iron grip, high in the air, just as he'd raised it to strike her.
"Now, Mac, we've had this little talk before. We don't need to have it again. Plenty of willing girls in Dodge, you go find one." The Marshal released Vickers arm and let it fall to his side.
Vickers glance was pure venom, "I've found what I want, Dillon. Now you walk out of here and go keep the peace somewhere else." He began moving towards where Kitty stood, very straight, across the room. Dillon dropped him in his tracks with a single punch, caught him as he fell, and then slung the smaller man over his shoulder, tipped his hat to Kitty, and walked out of the bar.
He was back half an hour later, and spent a few minutes in quiet speech with Pence that left that man pale and trying to smile feebly at his customers as he retired behind the bar. Matt came over to sit down at the table next to Kitty. The two cowboys who were sitting with her mumbled quick good byes and rose to take their drinks elsewhere.
"You okay, Kitty?" he asked.
"I am, Marshal, and I thank you," she replied.
"We've had trouble with Mac before. He beat up a girl over at the Peacock a couple months ago, and he and I had some words about that." Kitty looked at the Marshals huge hands and was sure what kind of words those had been. "I don't want to interfere in your business, Kitty, but I'd suggest you try to steer clear of Mac. He has some strange ideas."
"I'm aware of that, Marshal," she said.
"Matt."
Kitty smiled at him. "All right, I'm aware of that, Matt."
"Has he hurt you?"
"Not enough to count, Matt, but enough to make me want to stay away from him if I can." She shrugged, "But he doesn't listen very well."
"I just had a talk with Bill about that very thing. Bill's got a shotgun under the bar, and he needs to be a little firmer about using it. There was no need for me to have to get involved here today. Bill could have taken care of you, and warned off Mac, before it got out of hand."
"Well, I'm pretty glad you did get involved, Matt. You saved me a beating I surely did not want. Bill is a nice enough fella, but he's not too concerned with anything that doesn't directly affect his own comfort."
The Marshal smiled down at her. "And that's part of the discussion I just had with him. Told him next time he and I had to talk it would be out back in the alley. I think he'll do."
Kitty grinned. "Well, that would be a nice change. Thank you, Marshal."
"Matt."
"Thank you, Matt."
His voice a little lower, he asked, "Why do you do this, Kitty? I hate to see you get roughed up, and there's only so much I can do to stop it."
"It's my job, Matt. Sometimes it's a little rough, same as yours is, but it's how I make my living. And don't worry, cowboy, what you did today will stand me in good stead for quite a while."
He nodded, tipped his hat to her, rose and left the bar.
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"Because for years that's exactly what Matt Dillon did for me, Annie." She answered quietly and without a trace of embarrassment.
"But you don't work upstairs, Miss Kitty!" Annie said, in real shock.
"Not any more, I don't, honey, but I surely did when I first came here. How old are you, Annie? How old really?"
"I turned twenty-four at Christmas, Miss Kitty." Annie replied.
"I was just nineteen, and I'd been in the trade for almost five years when I got off the stage and came to work at the Long Branch. And almost from the start it got around that anyone who raised a hand to me was likely to feel the Marshal's fist." Kitty smiled, "Matt Dillon's got mighty big fists, Annie."
"Biggest man I've ever seen, Miss Kitty! He's even bigger than my Pa." Annie said, and then hesitated, but went on, "The Marshal knew you worked upstairs and he… he let you do that?"
"Good or bad, I make my own choices, Annie. The only thing Matt Dillon ever 'let' me do, and maybe the kindest thing any man alive ever did for me, was to help me stop that trade when I was ready." Kitty sighed and reached over to take Annie's hand, looking her straight in the eyes. "Now there's one more part to this we need to talk about, Annie, and then I'll let you alone to think on it. If you stay in Dodge, then one day a gunman is going to walk through those doors, and hear that rumor, and he's going to try to force you because he wants to hurt Matt, or he wants to use you to hurt Matt. If you're lucky, Sam will be there with his shotgun to walk him out to the alley and knock him on the head. And if you're not lucky, well, then the Marshal will shoot him down, and you will have to live with that. I know this because I've been watching it happen for a lot of years."
Annie was silent for a moment, and then, her chin came up in a gesture Kitty was beginning to know. "I can live with killin', Miss Kitty. I don't like it, but I've seen enough of it. Some men need killin'. But it must be right hard on you, ma'am, getting' up each morning and wonderin' if it will happen again today, and if, maybe, well, if this time it's goin' to go the other way."
Kitty squeezed Annie's hand hard once, then stood up. "No one ever said life was easy, Annie. But every day can be good if you work to make it that way." She turned and walked over to her office, Annie's eyes following her erect back and swaying skirts until the door closed behind her.