twenty-nine
On the banks of the river, stood Matt Dillon, hands in pockets, scowl on face and squinty eyes directed at Summerhaven across the water. He'd been walking the shoreline on and off since the Davis carriage had taken Kitty away. His initial cover had been fishing, but that sham had soon been abandoned. He paced back and forth, made trips to the sun porch where the view offered a slightly different perspective, and then back again to the river bank. From time to time Frankie joined him, bringing sandwiches, or water and always assurance that certainly, in such a setting no harm could possibly come to Kitty Russell. It was a lie, and they both knew it.
GS GS GS GS GS
Beaumont Davis glanced up from his poker hand to see Kitty approach; the rest of the men did the same. As a group they jumped to their feet. Their exuberance so forceful, they nearly upset the sturdy mahogany gaming table in the process. Flabby stomachs were sucked in and weak chests expanded with air, reminding Kitty of peacocks spreading their tail feathers in courtship ritual. There was no need for Beau to flaunt his blatant masculinity. He stood relaxed with a lazy smile lifting the corners of his sensuous lips. There was a chuckle in his voice, "Kitty … are you in need of rescue?"
This was her kind of arena, cards, men and expensive liquor; she could play them all as a maestro plays a baby grand. She batted her eyes in a most attractive and helpless manner, "Oh, I'm afraid, I've soiled my dress, and am no longer fit for the company of ladies." Her stance was demure, but certainly not innocent.
"Join us my dear, we're not the type to shy away from a soiled lady." Mr. Merewether offered, flaunting his nine-inch cigar with a flourish.
She responded with an arched eyebrow and a pouty smile. The round man blushed and tried to amend his statement, "Humfp … I mean … well … "
She placed a hand on his flabby shoulder, her drawl had never been sweeter, "Thank you, I've always been fascinated by card playing …" Her performance couldn't have worked better if she'd been a blonde. Ever so gently she tightened the squeeze on the rich man's shoulder, so that he wasn't sure if it was a message of attraction or the helpless reaction of a vulnerable female. The sugar remained in her voice. "Although, it seems mighty complicated to little old me."
H.P. Rice replied from across the table in a raspy voice, "Not complicated at all Missy … you follow suite. Ace is high …"
"Suite?"
H.P. coughed and clarified, "Yes … clubs, spades …"
She smiled and adjusted her shoulders slightly, an act which drew in her waist and changed the altitude of her breasts. "Oh … and diamonds and hearts?" She finished. "Those are my favorites … the red cards, I'm partial to red …"
"I must say," Freddy Deuth offered, with slow perusal of her assets, including flaming hair, "I'm mighty partial to red too."
Kitty ran a tongue over her lips, and offered a heartbeat of bedroom eyes to the quartette. Her smile turned purely beguiling, "And what girl alive doesn't love hearts and diamonds?"
Beaumont watched her antics with a humorous expression. He knew by now this woman was far more cunning than she was letting the businessmen see. He decided she was playing a game of her own contrivance, for their private amusement. He sent her a quick conspiratorial wink, to show he was in on her charade.
Ephraim Merewether offered, pulling over a chair, "Come sit by me, honey. I'll show you how the game is played. You can be my good luck charm."
Kitty noted his pile of chips was twice as large as anyone else's. She clapped her hands together, "Oh, are we winning?"
Beau had to clear his throat to keep from laughing out loud, before making a formal introduction, "Gentlemen," he announced, "May I present, Mrs. Kathleen Kent."
"Mrs!" Was their united exclamation.
Kitty practically purred her response, "I'm a poor lonely widow." She let the emphasis fall on the word 'lonely.' Merewether fingered the edge of his moustache, "I think we can remedy that problem." He held the chair for her, as she sat down. He returned to his seat, inching it over until the two chairs met. He picked up his cigar, stuck it in his mouth and then took a swig of the amber colored liquid in his glass, finishing the contents. He leaned closer to Kitty, showing her his poker hand, which contained two Kings, two Aces and a Queen of hearts. He put his finger to his lips, "Watch and learn."
Watch and Learn, was the riverboat gambler's mantra and an inherent trait to Kitty Russell. To have this opportunity to study each of the players was more than she could have hoped for. She had to give it to Merewether and friends - they were good. Their poker faces gave almost nothing away. But her early schooling had taught her well; she knew what to look for; H.P.'s widening of the eye, a twitch to Beaumont's lip, Merewether's tug on the end of his moustache and Fred Deuth's bald pate glowing with the fresh dew of perspiration. Every gambler has a giveaway, some involuntary habit or motion, which telegraphs inadvertent information to the other players; it was only a matter of knowing what to look for in order to identify the `tell'. She herself, knew her response was a quickening of pulse, at the base of her throat. When she was in gambling garb, she always wore a choker to hide her body's perfidy. After an hour in the company of these gentlemen, she could very nearly predict their play; when they had a good hand, when they had a bad and most importantly when they were bluffing.
Hand after hand was dealt, the pile of chips shifted from one player to the other, they smoked their fine cigars, drank expensive brandy and flirted shamelessly with Kitty. However, there was more going on then a mere game of poker with a pretty lady in attendance. She studied their words as she had studied their card playing. It was obvious to her suspicious mind, they were practiced in double talk and code and carried on a conversation, which seemed nothing more than the normal shoptalk one might expect from savvy businessmen, but she knew a secret dialogue, cloaked their discussion. Between sexual innuendos and slightly off color jokes, which certainly they thought Kitty was too innocent or dim witted to comprehend, they spoke of the Fraternatis and the Solutio with a greedy fervor that brought a chill to Kitty's spine. The words were ancient, but not so far removed from their modern counterparts that she couldn't speculate on their meaning. Excitement and trepidation heightened her awareness. She was standing at the precipice of information the Secret Service had been working so hard to gain access to. With a calming intake of air she forced herself to maintain her own poker face.
So intent on the conversation and the idiosyncrasies of the men at the table, she didn't immediately notice when Sebastian entered the room. She nearly jumped when he addressed Beaumont, "Sir, Starkey is here from the Emporium, he wishes to discuss with you a matter requiring your immediate attention."
Beau stood, "Thank you Sebastian, tell him I'll be right there." He turned to his guests, "Please excuse me, I don't believe this will take long. Mrs. Kent, why don't you play my hand … let's see if you have learned anything from Mr. Merewether." With that, Beau turned to glance in the wall mirror, adjusted his tie and gave a small wink to his reflection, before leaving the room.
Something about that act niggled at Kitty's memory, but she couldn't put a finger on why or what. She gracefully moved to Beau's chair and picked up the cards he'd left fanned out face down on the table. It was a poor hand, rich in twos and threes, but she played it out and lost some of Beau's money. The men continued to tease her; it was obvious they saw Kitty as nothing more than brainless eye candy, something sweet to enjoy, but of little mental substance, and certainly no threat to their cause. As the game wore on they became bolder in talk, less concerned with cloaking information. It was Deuth who leaned across the table and said to the others in a low ruthless voice, "The Barger concern may not be in the best interest of the Fraternatis, I have the impression their allegiance is motivated on a dissimilar course. In other words gentlemen, the Barger family, Beau Davis included, may not be a part of the Solutio … at least as we see it."
H.P. Rice shook his head, the smoke in the room, made his voice sound like rough gravel, and he breathed heavy and coughed after each sentence, "No … Fred, you have it wrong … we'd never have gotten this far … without their help."
Merewether toyed with the end of his moustache in a classically diabolical fashion, "They can be easily manipulated and eventually take the fall, casting away from the Fraternatis any shadow of doubt." He saw Kitty watching him and he abruptly changed direction, "I hope we're not boring with our shop talk, might I pour you a drink? I'm sure Beau has some sherry here somewhere."
She nodded and took the drink he offered, as on cue each of the players changed the subject to reflect the past season of horse racing at Saratoga Springs. They were moments into the conversation when Beau returned to the room, his face was calm, his manner easy, aside from a slight twitch to the corner of his mouth. Kitty's poker instincts told her he'd been dealt cards he hadn't expected. "Gentlemen, I must leave for the Emporium … business, you understand … Miss Kitty, I'll see you home on my way, shall I?"
There was no indication from her coquettish smile that she was concerned by what she'd witnessed except the rapid pulse which beat at the base of her elegant neck. Thankfully, dressed as she was, no one was looking at her neck. She accepted Beau's hand and bid the players good-bye.
"Thank you gentlemen … even if I didn't win today, I've learned a great deal from each of you."
Each man stood up and bowed at her exit. She sighed her relief as the door shut behind them.
Beau took her elbow and led her from the house. He didn't speak until they were on the front veranda, "I'm sorry I had to leave you in there with those charmers, although I'm sure you held your own."
"I did my best. Shouldn't I say good bye to your Grandmother?" she asked.
"I'll do that for you. I feel bad enough for putting you through this, without subjecting you to another round of the dragon ladies."
Sebastian pulled the carriage to the front steps of the home, and Beau helped her in and then settled in the seat across from her. Evening had come and although a gaslight burned in the carriage, shadows hid all but the angles of his face. She smiled with unease, she liked Beau and although she didn't understand exactly what Merewether, Rice and Deuth were speaking of, she knew it did not bode well for Davis or his Grandmother. It seemed she was obligated to some form of fair warning. She began with a question, "What is the Fraternatis?"
It was too dark to see the twitch. "Fraternatis, is Latin for brotherhood. It's …" He hesitated."It's a very exclusive gentlemen's social club."
"and `solutio'?"
Again, hesitation before he answered. "By laws … the clubs rules and regulations."
"While you were gone, the men, Rice and the rest, were talking about the Fraternatis."
"That's not surprising."
"And, they were talking about you. "
He answered with a casual drawl. "What about me?"
"They don't think you're an asset to their Fraternatis."
He laughed. "Not to worry my dear. Those fellows are like gossipy old hens, as soon as one leaves the room the rest start cackling. You must see Kitty; I'm just small potatoes compared to them, they're big time wheelers and dealers and I'm just a Southern farm boy trying to eke out a living. It's not surprising they would deem me less than equal to their business agendas and social club."
"All the same Beau, I wouldn't trust them if I were you."
He reached across the aisle and took her fingers in his. "Thank you for caring enough to tell me."
The cottage was dark when the carriage pulled to a stop. Beau walked her to the front door, took the key from her hand and unlocked it for her. He chuckled in the dark and she asked, "What?"
"Oh … I was just picturing you wrapping Merewether around your dainty finger … soiled lady indeed!" He leaned in and gave her a kiss to her cheek. "Sleep well beautiful Kitty-cat and thank you."
Frankie was already in bed on the cot in the front parlor. She sat up and wiped sleep from her eyes as Kitty walked through the room. "What did you find out?" She asked.
"If you don't mind … I'd rather talk about it tomorrow. Where's Matt?"
"Either in bed or down by the river."
Her corset stays were pinching her ribs and she felt if she didn't get out of the fancy clothes soon, she'd be in danger of suffocating.
"Go back to sleep Frankie."
Kitty tiptoed to her room and quickly slipped out of the clothing and into a white linen sleeping gown, which had belonged to Mrs. Johnston. She set free her hair from the combs and pins, and gave it a shake. It smelled like cigar smoke. She doused her brush with French toilet water and then ran it through her tresses until the odor was replaced by the sweeter scent. When her clean-up was complete she donned slippers and house robe and ventured out to see if she could find Matt. There was so much she wanted to talk over with him.
He was leaning against a tree by the birch grove; she quickened her pace when she realized he had been waiting for her.
He reached for her when she was close enough, and pulled her to him."You all right?" he asked, but his lips suppressed her answer. When the kiss ended, she nodded. "I'm fine."
"Y'sure?"
"Yuh … I learned a few things … at least I think I did … it's going to take some sorting out in my mind before I can talk about it."
He nodded. "I'm proud of you … you know that, don't you?"
Again she nodded and sighed. The weight of the task in front of them was daunting, "I wish … I wish we were back home in Dodge …"
"I know … but just as long as you're all right." His hands tightened around her upper arms and he studied her silhouette. He spoke his thoughts aloud, "Where would I be without you?"
She stiffened her spine, "Mister, you'd be just where you are … Matt Dillon, U.S. Marshal."
"No I wouldn't, I've had a lot of time to think today, waiting for you ... worrying about you. Without you Kitty, something would be missing from me. I guess I'd be wearing the badge, but I'd be a different man."
The profound truth of the matter hit her core, "We'd both be different… less than what we are, incomplete, I guess."
"How did we ever get so damn lucky?"
She was all saloon madam bravado, "Luck has nothing to do with it Cowboy, it's all the way you play your hand."
He saw right through Kitty's bluster, to the very heart of her. The slivered moon appeared from behind the cloud and the stars shown bright, glowing with muted shadows against her lovely face. A breeze caught a wisp of her red hair and played with it a moment before he took it in hand. He caressed the wayward tress, bringing it to his nose to inhale its delicate scent, as though it were a sweet summer rose. He wanted her; he needed her. Desire both physical and spiritual empowered him. "Come." He said, gently lowering her to the ground with him. She settled in the crook of his shoulder and together they stared at the night sky forgetting for the moment all that was wrong with the world, concentrating only on what was right. They each knew what was coming, and savored the intense yearning which would propel their passion. Ever so gently he rolled on top of her, blocking her view of the sky, but bringing with his love the light of ten thousand stars.
