Dark Reflection
Chapter 44
"The Gloaming"
by Lilyjack
Author's Note: Dear Readers, thank you again a bushel and a peck for the flattering notes you've left here. It makes me happier than you can imagine when I read each and every last one. Gunsmoke Fans are the cherry on the cake of my day. And the thing that makes me happier than anything is the fact that I can entertain you all with this crazy little story, particularly at this difficult time we are all sharing.
Romance fans, no steam in this chapter, but I'm hoping it will leave your M/K hearts very content. We've gotta remember that our girl is suffering from what would now be called PTSD, and Matt realizes he must take his time and not rush things in order to win Kitty's heart. When I reread it just now for a last-minute edit, it even made me heave a heavy sigh, so I hope you enjoy, too. Be safe, ever'body. ~lj
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"The gloaming…" Kitty murmured. "This is my favorite time of day." She and Matt sat astride their mounts within viewing distance of Dodge. They watched as street lanterns lit up one by one, and glowing points of candlelight and kerosene lamps dotted the windows of the buildings. Sunset still streaked the western horizon with fading scarlet and orange brush marks, but twinkling stars were also appearing by the score across the endless navy-blue sky. A silvery moon hung pendulously low, watching over the tiny, pulsing beacons dancing over the prairie grass - fireflies tirelessly searching for a mate. The rising and falling waves of shimmering cicadas that had sung during the sultry daytime hours had been replaced by the comforting, rhythmic nocturnal chirp of crickets and katydids.
Kitty's hushed voice held a dreamlike quality as she gazed around her, drinking it all in. "It's not day and it's not quite nighttime either. The sky and the land out here…it feels almost magic." She breathed in deeply, exhaling slowly. "As if nothing's quite real. Like everything is waiting. It's an in-between time."
Matt observed Kitty as she in turn surveyed the quiet evening spectacle, and she and the landscape both appeared radiant in the final remnants of daylight. He kept his voice low, unwilling to break the spell of the moment. "You never told me that before, Kitty."
"Well, why would I have?" she smiled. "I don't guess we've ever been out at this time of day together before now."
"Yeah…" he quickly corrected himself, removing his hat and scrubbing his fingers through his curly hair. "Course, you're right."
She revealed hesitantly, "You probably think I'm silly." Kitty leaned over, patting her horse on the neck.
"No," he rushed to differ. "Not at all! Funny, I'm partial…to this time of day, too, Kitty. Especially out here on the prairie."
Regretfully, she sighed, "I don't get a chance t' see it too often. Since I'm usually workin'..."
"Yep, that's true." He echoed her sentiment, "You usually are workin' at this time of day. That's too bad."
Kitty thoughtfully reflected, "From here, Dodge looks like a real nice, clean place, doesn't it? Right now, all lit up like candles on a Christmas tree, you'd think everything down there was peaceful, and everybody had good intentions."
"It's nice to come out here sometimes…and imagine it that way." Matt confided, "I hafta ride out to the prairie sometimes, to get away from it all, just for my own peace of mind."
"Do you?" She looked to him, surprised.
"Yep."
Her fingers threaded through the course, feathery dark mane of her mount as she thoughtfully posed, "Matt, can't we just stay out here? I hate to think about goin' back to that dark cellar."
He returned her gaze earnestly. "Whatever you want, Kitty. It's up to you."
"Really?" Her expression was dubious.
Matt reminded her, "I told you once before…we could leave Dodge if you wanted to. Go somewhere you'd be safe."
"But I can't leave Dodge," she sighed in resignation. "Everything I own is invested in this dirty cowtown."
Adjusting his grip on the leather reins, he replied quietly, "So I reckon we'd better be headin' back."
"I know," she admitted. "It was just a thought."
"I'll confess it's a…mighty tempting offer, Kitty," he smiled at her, his eyes wistful. "But, honestly, I think the time…is comin' soon when we can make a move. When we can take back Dodge."
"I hope so, Matt."
"I do, too, Kitty."
"Besides, I'm gettin' awful tired of livin' underground. Will you bring me out here with you again?"
Matt gazed softly at her. "Sure, I will, Kitty. I've enjoyed our day together." He hesitated for an instant. "More than you know."
"Thank you, Matt. I'm… I'm beholden to you for what you did for me today. I feel better just knowin' I can blow a hole in a man who tries anything I don't particularly like." She grinned wickedly.
Matt grinned back at her. "I'm glad, Kitty. I want you to feel safe."
"I do." She reached over to lay a hand on his arm. "When I'm with you."
Kitty's horse stirred, and their temporal bond was broken. Matt quickly asked, "Did you, uh, did you ever think about doin' anything besides runnin' a saloon? That's a mighty dangerous business…for anyone, but especially a woman."
"The saloon business is all I know, Matt." She removed her hat and swept a hand over her hair to contain the wayward strands. "I've worked on riverboats or in barrooms ever since I left home."
"I don't know…I think you might be pretty good at anything you took a mind to do."
"Like what?" she puzzled, one eyebrow climbing.
"Whatever you want."
Kitty sat silently for a time, soaking in the rarified atmosphere of the gloaming of the day she'd shared with Matt, thoughtfully mulling over her companion's ideas. Then they sighed, pulling on the hot dusters and donning their dark hats to make the final leg of their journey into town.
Kitty's hand reached to reassuringly touch the pistol stuck in her waistband again. Yep, she sure hoped the time to take back Dodge was coming real soon.
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Kitty quickly dropped her damp towel and drew over her head the freshly laundered nightgown Ma had left at the house while she and Matt had been out on the prairie. It felt awful good to get cleaned up, even if it was just a sponge bath, after a long, hot day in the sun. She stuck her head out the door of the wine cellar. "You can come in now," she announced to Matt who sat lazily on the stairs. "I'm decent. Admittedly, there's not too many 'respectable' people round Dodge who'd agree with me, but…" She rolled her eyes and beckoned Matt inside. "You wanna wash up now? It's pretty late. Funny, I've stayed up nearly all night long workin' for as long as I can remember." She placed her hands on her hips over the voluminous nightgown. "But now I've got my times reversed, and I'm used to sleepin' all night and gettin' up with the chickens."
"You're awful talkative for somebody who should've been in bed hours ago," Matt kidded, yawning broadly.
"I guess I'm still excited about our adventures today." Her eyes shone in the lamplight. "Thank you again, Matt, for today. It meant a lot to me."
He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down at her, smiling softly. "It meant a lot to me, too."
There was a quiet pause as they gazed at one another. Finally Kitty took a breath and asked, "Well…are ya or aren't ya?"
"Aren't I, what?" he asked, confusion evident on his stubbled features.
"Gonna wash up? I'll go sit outside."
"No, Kitty, you don't hafta go out there. Here, give me that bucket of warm water…Charlie brought down. I gotta get shed of these whiskers. Did he bring some towels?"
"Yep." She placed a couple of folded, fluffy white towels in his arms.
"I'll just go over in my little 'room,'" he joked, lifting the bucket. "…if you promise to be good and stay on your side."
"Oh, Matt…" she chided teasingly, sitting on her bed.
The way she said his name like that made his heart jump and ache at the same time. It sounded so like his own Kitty back in his Dodge. But this girl couldn't be more like his own Kitty. She was Kitty, and Matt was beginning to have trouble separating the two. Were they really separate? Were there two…or only one?
"Matt?"
"Yeah…?"
"You gonna take that bath or just stand there all night?"
"Yeah…bath. It, uh…it won't take me long." He walked around the curtain dividing their space. "What're you reading?" he called as he stripped off his shirt and union suit, letting the top half of the undergarment dangle over the waistband of his trousers.
Kitty held a book, its faded cover worn, the pages dog-eared. She opened it to the title page and read aloud, "Ivanhoe…by Sir Walter Scott. Have you read it?"
"Nope."
"Doc loaned it to me cause I need somethin' to do down here in the dungeon. He knows I like to read the newspaper, but I go through that pretty quick. Besides, they're all old as Methuselah before they make it down here to me."
Matt, sans eyepatch, poked his half-shaven face around the curtain, towel around his neck and straight razor in hand. "You enjoying it?"
"Well, I…" Kitty stopped short and observed helpfully, "You missed a spot…right there. She craned her neck and stuck out her jaw, pointing to a spot on her face, just so.
Matt returned to his mirror to double-check and scraped at the neglected patch of foam and stubble. "Thanks. It's pretty hard to shave by lamplight. So what's your book about?"
"I haven't read it yet, but Doc says it's about brave knights and their ladies fair. He thought I might like it." She raised her voice a little to be heard over the splashing of water. "It says here under the title, A Romance." That word made her heart squeeze a little in her chest. Romance…what was that? she thought bitterly. Romance was for respectable folks.
She heard Matt growl a little, the sound muffled by a towel. He sure was a fella to enjoy a bath, even one from a wash pan. She smiled and tried to envision him right then—wet torso, bubbly lather, dampened hair. Then she reckoned she probably shouldn't think about it, after all, and stuck her head back in the book.
Matt startled her when he popped around to her side again, scrubbing his arms and chest with a towel. "Do you like romance?"
"Me? Well… I mean…" Her cheeks colored a little. "Girls like me, we don't have too many men beatin' down our doors lookin' for anything besides…oh! You mean romance stories! Like Sir Walter's here. Sorry…"
Matt stretched and threaded his arms through his union suit sleeves. Kitty noticed his chest was still a little damp. He came nearer, buttoning up his long underwear. Kitty breathed in the fresh scent of soap mixed with something quite virile. She swallowed hard and attempted to appear nonchalant. Kitty saw naked men all the time, but none of them gave her butterflies in her stomach the way this one did, and he'd only been half-naked. She shook her head and looked down again, cradling the book in her open palms. She let it fall open to an oft-read page.
"Read it to me," Matt encouraged her.
Kitty nodded and glanced back down, read aloud the passage that lay beneath her index finger, haltingly at first, but gradually the words and phrases flowed from her lips:
Joy to the fair!—thy knight behold,
Return'd from yonder land of gold;
No wealth he brings, nor wealth can need,
Save his good arms, and battle-steed;
His spurs, to dash against a foe,
His lance and sword to lay him low;
Such all the trophies of his toil,
Such—and the hope of Tekla's smile!
Kitty gently closed the book and looked up. Matt stood staring at her with a faraway look in his eyes, arms crossed over his chest, bottom lip caught in his teeth. He murmured, "Maybe I like romance, too."
Her eyes tearing, Kitty quickly averted her gaze, thinking what a brave, handsome knight Matt would make for some real nice girl one day. "Yes," she said in a low voice. "It's lovely."
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Matt's eyes popped open and he sat up, peering around the dim room, the kerosene lantern turned as low as it would go. Something had awakened him. He stood, noiselessly slipped on his trousers and edged toward the thin curtain. There it was again. It was a familiar sound that punched Matt viciously in the gut and made him want to beat a particular bastard to death, leaving his bones in the sun for the vultures to pick.
When Matt heard Kitty's muffled sob once more, he stepped around the curtain, dropped to one knee beside her bed and tenderly raked the hair out of her tear-streaked, flushed face. She was lying on her side, pillow clutched protectively against her body, knees drawn up.
"Shh…" he anxiously soothed. "Don't cry, Kitty," he murmured, placing a big hand gently on her trembling shoulder, wanting so badly to provide her solace, to make her nightmarish memories go away once and for all.
A tortured sob escaped her throat, and she covered her face with her hands. Her words hitched rhythmically from her lungs, "I'm…so sorry…Matt." She hastily swiped a nightgown sleeve over her wet face. "I…don't…know…what's the matter…with me." Then she dissolved in heart-wrenching tears again, and Matt hurriedly raised up to sit on the edge of the bed, reaching out to her, yearning for her to accept his offer of comfort. She came to him quickly, slipping her arms around his neck and burying her heated face in his chest. He let her weep, clutching him tightly, her tears wetting his shirtfront. His feelings were in a turmoil—Kitty crying her eyes out within his embrace was bittersweet; he was immensely grateful for her acceptance of his touch while he burned with fury at what she'd experienced at the hands of a depraved outlaw. Matt tenderly rubbed her smooth back through the soft, cotton gown until her shuddering sobs had all but subsided.
"I'm sorry, Kitty." He only knew to say what was in his heart. "If I could change what they did to you, honey, I would. I'd kill Silas Blackthorne with my bare hands if I could."
"You…would?" She accepted the wrinkled cotton hankie Matt dug out of his back trouser pocket, blowing her nose.
"Hell, yes."
"I would, too." She sniffled and cocked an angry eyebrow.
He could see in her expression the utter misery and hate she felt. He wiped the hot tears from her face with his hands and stroked her tumbled hair soothingly. Matt felt helpless when she cried, but it was an infinite improvement when he could hold her in his arms and comfort her instead of listening impotently from across the room.
Eyes downcast, she broodingly murmured, "I haven't told you what that filthy bastard did to me. He and his 'deputies.' They used me. They…" She choked on her words for a moment and swallowed hard.
Matt felt the muscles in his jaws clench, and his arms trembled in anger as he pulled her more tightly against him.
"I didn't want that, Matt, I really didn't." Her breath hitched in her chest, and Matt stroked a thumb over her flushed cheek, listening silently. She managed to continue, "I'd worked hard to get away from living like that. I'd worked hard to get my own place, and then they took it all away from me." Her brow furrowed in shame and frustration and fury.
Matt touched her chin and cupped her cheek, urging her to look at him. "Kitty, it's not your fault, honey. You didn't deserve to be treated like that. You didn't do anything wrong."
Her face crumpled at his words and tears streamed down silently.
He continued determinedly, "And we're gonna get it all back again. It's rightfully yours and we'll take it back."
She swallowed her sorrow and her face hardened in determination. "We'll take it back," she repeated.
"If it's the last thing I do…" Matt muttered bitterly.
She looked up at him suddenly, her swollen eyes liquid blue, and solemnly proffered, "Thank you, Matt. I always seem to be obliged to you, don't I? But I am mighty thankful for all that you've done for me."
"You woulda' done the same. Wouldn't you?"
"I like to think I would've." She gazed at him searchingly and blurted out, "Matt, why are you so good to me?"
He was taken aback at her question and thought for a moment, wondering what to say. Finally, after a pensive moment, he simply asked, "Don't you know?"
"Well, if you were most any other man, I would. But I can't read you proper, I don't think."
"Whatta you mean?" His blue eyes crinkled at the corners as he looked at her.
"I mean, I've known a lotta men in my day, and all of 'em, with a very few exceptions, want somethin' outta me when they're nice to me. Somethin' in exchange." She toyed with a button on his union suit. "I guess you could say Chester is one of those exceptions. But I can't figure you. You're nice, but you haven't…well, you haven't tried to get anything in return."
Again, he was at a loss for words. What to say to this beautiful young woman with a heart of gold, but battered and bruised by life, inside and out? "I… I like you, Kitty." He took a deep breath, brushing a damp tendril of red hair from her forehead. "I mean… I care for you." He hesitated, wondering how much to say, not wishing to alarm her. "Very deeply."
"Very deeply?" she probed.
"Very, Kitty…"
"Like I care for Chester?" she pressed him.
"No," he replied firmly, tucking her hair delicately behind her ear. "Definitely not the way you care for Chester, honey."
"The way you call me that… It makes me feel…" Her gaze was soft and unfocused. Then she snapped back to cold reality, her expression and tone skeptical. "Oh, Matt, you can't... Why, I'm… Well, you know what I've done with my life."
"Kitty, you aren't your past." His dark eyebrows knit together as he searched for an explanation for what made him love her so. "You are what you make of yourself."
"But…you're decent, Matt, and honorable…and brave. Surely you have some nice girl waitin' for you somewhere. I just don't understand… Why would you even wanna be with me? I'm…" She took a quick breath, frowning. "I'm a…"
"Don't say that, Kitty. Stop calling yourself names, beating yourself up. You know, honey, nobody is perfect. You say I'm honorable and brave, but you don't know the things I've done in my past that I'm not particularly proud of. One of these days maybe I'll tell you a few of 'em and then you'll believe me." He raked a hand in consternation through his thick hair.
"But the thing I'm least proud of is this: I used to think I knew what was most important in my life-but I didn't appreciate what I had right smack dab in front a' me. And then it was all gone in an instant. Everything was taken from me." Matt paused, then shook his head ruefully. "No, I take that back. It wasn't taken from me. I lost it. I got nobody to blame but myself. But now I see clearly what's really important, and I don't wanna mess that up again. I'm learning to prioritize things a little better. I know it all sounds crazy, but I hope you'll just trust me, Kitty. That's all I ask."
"Matt, I think I trust you more than most anyone I've ever met, but…" He could see in her face she was still struggling. "You're handsome and you have a good head on your shoulders and…you could have anybody you set your cap for…"
He rubbed a hand in frustration over his face. "You want me to spell it out? I don't want just anybody. I want you, Kitty Russell. And I'm willin' to wait for you. I know things have been hard for you, and you've pulled through. But I know you still hurt. And I don't wanna rush you. I've come a long distance, it seems, on a journey even I don't understand, to find you. And I'm not gonna let you down or lose you this time. I know I'm not makin' a damn bit a' sense, and you might think I'm loco, but it's how I feel."
Kitty's eyes were wide with wonder at the long speech he'd given. Matt Dillon was a man of few words, and she figured she might not get another syllable out of him for a week after that passionate outpouring. Relinquishing, she softly replied, "Okay, Matt," and lay her head tiredly against him, reveling in his warmth and strength. She was exhausted, too exhausted to contemplate everything he had said. All she knew was that she didn't want to move one inch, didn't wish to leave the safety of this good man's arms who claimed to care for her beyond all odds. She softly murmured, "Will you hold me till I fall asleep?"
Matt smiled, his eyes burning with pent-up emotion. His chest felt tight, full to bursting-with longing for Kitty, hate for Silas Blackthorne, and his passionate aim to do right by her this time around come hell or high water. "I'll hold you, Kitty. And I plan on waitin' for you, too. Don't you forget it."
Kitty lay back on the bed, her searching hand latching onto the front of his undershirt, pulling him down with her. They melted into one another, and she sighed. Matt held his girl against his heart and slept, more deeply and contentedly than he had in a second lifetime.
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