A Change in Plans

An ATC for "The Foundling"

by Lilyjack

Author's Note: One reason I am pleased with this fic is that it contains an element that is lacking in what I usually write: character flaws, foibles, and organically bad decision-making. I believe those very human characteristics make our heroes infinitely more interesting and believable. And without flaws and inadvisable choices, stories would have no emotionally satisfying conflict and therefore no interesting plots.

Usually, the conflict in my fics comes from the outside world—gunslingers, outlaws, and spoilers. But the tv show's creators and writers themselves introduced the inner conflict at the heart of this fic in multiple episodes. They would address an emotional or developmental problem for one episode and then drop it like a hot potato. This was due to a lack of series' continuity and a definite lack of desire for the show's heroes and their relationships to naturally evolve. Some of our favorite characters suffered more from this treatment than others.

So this fic was written to explore what might have happened to solve a problem so utterly apparent in the show, an issue that was ignored until the end of the show's run when it was too late to do anything about it. Of course, if the ending had been satisfactory in terms of our favorite couple, then we might not all be hanging out on this fanfic site and I might not have some of the best friends a Gunsmoke girl could ask for. But in the end, this particular fic is about natural evolution and needs, not to mention character growth. Hope everyone enjoys this story that my co-conspirator and I think is a little bit different, but ultimately worth the ride. Stay safe and warm. ~lj

Chapter 12

"Thinking Twice"

Kitty stiffened her spine, straightened her shoulders, and entered the kitchen where Quint was standing with his back to her, a tea towel thrown carelessly over his shoulder. He was poking with a spatula at something sizzling in a cast iron skillet. It smelled delicious.

Despite the mouth-watering aromas wafting around the kitchen, she was beginning to feel a bit nauseous contemplating facing Quint after the terribly emotional scene she'd caused last night. This sure was beginning to be a habit with them.

She didn't know precisely how long it had taken her to calm down and drift off to sleep. Quint had apparently finally left her and returned to his own bed. He was gone when she woke this morning with a start and a gasp, followed by a mortified groan. She'd risen pretty late, judging by the sun shining in her window. Hearing Quint already rattling around in the kitchen, she'd splashed water on her face, thrown on her yellow day dress and hurriedly combed her hair back into a ponytail, loose tresses escaping around her face.

And right now, standing hesitantly in the middle of the small kitchen, she could feel her cheeks flush, thinking of her old friend seeing her act like a silly schoolgirl. And she had been half-naked to boot. As was he, come to think of it. But that hadn't stopped her from holding on to him for dear life, oh no. She unconsciously sighed to herself, rolling her eyes, a bit mortified at the memory. She was surprised when she heard Quint clear his throat. He was looking over his shoulder, grinning at her.

"Well, howdy there, Sleepin' Beauty…" His smile couldn't be any wider. "Why the long face?"

"Oh, Quint…" She frowned vigorously.

He quizzically raised his brows, scooping fried meat out of the skillet and onto a plate, asking, "What's the matter?"

She sighed again and sauntered up next to him by the stove, crossing her arms over her chest. "I feel like such an ass. I've been putting you through so much. And last night, I was just…so…" She stared down at the floor self-consciously, unable to look him in the eye.

"You were terrified." Any hint of humor in his face had drained away instantly at her admission. His voice was low and earnest. "Kitty, you shouldn't feel…" He gently hooked a finger under her chin, forcing her to look into his dark eyes. They were flashing with what she could have sworn was anger. "You've done nothin' wrong. Nothin' for you to feel ashamed of. You hear me?"

She bit her lip, her eyes mutinously filling with tears she refused to let spill.

Quint continued, "I don't know what the hell happened to you to haunt your dreams like that, but I have a pretty damn good idea, and it seems to me that Matt Dillon, of all people, would be a little more sympathetic to…" Stopping mid-sentence, he stubbornly pressed his lips together. Finally, he shook his head in frustration and began scraping his spatula in the skillet again. "I've said too much."

"No, Quint, don't feel bad. It's my fault that you…"

"No, Kitty, nothin' about this is your fault. And I don't ever want you to feel bad about havin' nightmares or wakin' me up in the middle of the night. You can cry all you want to, and I'll be right here to hold your hand, okay?" He turned his head to gaze at her softly.

"Okay, Quint," she acquiesced, her eyes wide. She observed his anger melting away as he looked at her.

"Maybe…" he began, nodding at her firmly. "Maybe, when you start feelin' safe, you'll stop havin' those dreams."

"You think so?" she doubtfully replied.

"When was the last time you felt safe, Kitty? Really safe in Dodge? How many awful things have happened to you there?"

Her voice lowered, "Oh, I don't think I wanna talk about that, Quint."

"You don't have to. I know what it's been like there for you, and I don't like it. These terrible things happen to you over and over… I just don't like it one bit."

Kitty didn't know what to say. She'd never heard her friend talk like this before. She stared intently down, anywhere but his face, his knowing eyes. She looked at his blue sleeves that he'd rolled up to keep them clean while cooking. That's when she spotted a long scar running diagonally across his inner forearm. There were several other small scars darkening his already golden skin. Were they from working red hot iron over fiery coals? Why hadn't she ever noticed them before?

Quint firmly reiterated, "Like I said, maybe when you're feelin' safe and secure, you'll stop havin' those dreams."

"Maybe…" She bit her lip while she tried to keep her mind from drifting to bad times…bad men…Barens…Mannon…Bonner… A shudder overtook her. And suddenly she was glad to be standing here in the kitchen with Quint in St. Louis.

"I'm sorry, Kitty." He cast his eyes to the ceiling. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"You didn't upset me, Quint." Her blue gaze, now clear and untroubled, returned to his face. "I think you made me feel a whole lot better, to tell the truth."

"I did?"

"You did."

A handsome smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He cleared his throat again a little self-consciously, shifted his feet and his attention back to his skillet. Attempting to lighten the mood, he remarked, "Say, I guess I need to start construction on a livery stable, don't I? Maybe we can discuss some of those savvy ideas of yours. I noticed you talkin' shop with my blacksmiths while I was doin' business with Mr. Flowers."

"Mr. Flowers? That big man's name was Flowers?"

"Yep. He's interested in a bulk order of hammers and chisels handmade by my talented crew. You like bacon?"

"Course I like bacon." A hint of an amused smile lit up her eyes.

"Here." He broke a strip in half and poked one piece into his mouth and held the other up for her.

She eyed him, then opened her mouth. He popped it in, her eyes closing in salty satisfaction. "Mm…" she murmured thickly as she chewed. "Good."

"You wanna eat in the dining room or here in the kitchen?"

"Kitchen's fine. We need paper."

"Paper?"

"And a pencil."

"What for?"

"Notes and lists. Ideas for your new livery."

"Comin' right up. You sit down and get started on your breakfast, and I'll be back in two shakes of a lamb's tail."

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Juggling a notepad and retractable tape measure, Quint stuck a pencil stub behind his ear. "Dear…" he called to her with sparkling eyes from across the blacksmith shop. "I'll have Clay here drive you to the lumberyard."

"I can just take a cab, Quint. There's no need for someone to drive me." She was wearing a new deep blue suit, tailored yet very feminine with satin lapels and rich embroidery the same hue as the fabric.

Quint glanced over at his workers. Seamus and Grover were hard at work, but he could tell Clay was within earshot, acting as if he wasn't listening. Quint stuck the notepad in his shirt pocket and strolled over, taking her arm. They walked to a distant corner and talked quietly. "I don't want you to be by yourself, Kitty. We talked about this, remember?"

"I'm just goin' across town to negotiate a price. What could possibly happen?"

"You of all people should not have to ask me that, Kitty."

"Oh, Quint, this isn't Dodge City, for heavens sakes."

"Yeah, and if it was just you, I know you'd be fine. You know how to take care of yourself. But…" He gently lay his fingertips on her belly, first glancing over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching. He ducked his head and lowered his voice even further. "But you've got somebody else to think of now. I know you're feelin' a little better, but I can tell by your eyes, honey, that you're still not…"

"Well, thanks, Quint," she interrupted him, raising an auburn brow. "A lady always likes to hear that she's not lookin' her best."

"You know what I mean." A smile played at his lips. "Mrs. Asper, you look ravishing to me. That color suits you."

"Flatterer," she teased, eyeing him askance, but her cheeks warmed all the same. "Gotta look my best in order to impress the mill owner and get the lowest price for your lumber, y' know...Mr. Asper."

"Oh, I appreciate your business expertise, I assure you," he grinned.

Kitty was struck by how white his teeth appeared against his swarthy skin and dancing black eyes. How strong and capable his bare forearms covered with soft, dark hair appeared below his rolled-up shirt sleeves. It was hot in the shop, and there was a sheen of sweat on his forehead and on his neck. She'd always considered Quint Asper a very handsome man but hadn't ever given it a whole lot of thought in Dodge City.

Her life had been filled with men, day in and day out, sunrise to sunset and into the wee hours of the morning. And the most handsome man in her life had been by her side. Most of the time. Kitty hadn't given her deepest thoughts or her heart to any man save Matt Dillon for the most part, with the exception of a couple of foolish dalliances. There'd just never been any room for any man in her life except Matt. And she'd always considered herself happy. Contented. There was that word again. Contented…until recently. When suddenly the balance of her life had been upset by the sheer weightiness of a tiny child. Now Kitty Russell wasn't sure of anything anymore.

"I'll do my best," she replied, any hint of levity absent now from her voice, from her expression.

Quint laid a gentle hand on her arm. "You okay?"

She shook her head as if to clear it. "Yes, I'm fine."

"I'll have Clay drive the wagon so he can pick up a load of supplies for me at Daggett & Darrow's. It's on your way." Quint motioned to his employee. "Clay! You wanna go hitch up the big wagon? I need you to make a stop for me on your way back from the lumberyard."

Clay shifted his eyes nervously from Kitty to Quint. "Yessir," he finally answered, and he headed out back to get the horses.

Quint took Kitty's elbow, escorted her out front where it was cooler. "You won't be gone long? Just straight there and back, right?"

Kitty's mouth hung open for a second before she caught herself and quickly closed it. She wasn't used to a man keeping tabs on her. Matt didn't care what she did or where she went…unless it was someplace completely disreputable like Pickaxe, and then he was pretty good at throwing his weight around. Pitching a big fit, actually. That adventure hadn't turned out so good, she mused. But having a man like Quint worry about you traveling across town to buy some wood was…different. "Well, I thought I might stop and pick somethin' up for supper…"

"That'd be great. I'll cook."

"Okay," she agreed quietly. She saw Clay driving the wagon round the shop. When she glanced over at him, his eyes shifted away uneasily. He pulled the horses up a fair distance away.

Then she noticed Quint looking at her intently, eyes squinted thoughtfully. "Next time, I'll go with you, okay? Today I just needed to…"

"No need to explain, Quint. You don't hafta go with me everywhere."

"I'd feel better, Kitty. If I did, that is. I just don't want anything to happen to you. Or that baby of yours. I know how important this is."

Kitty examined his expression. She could tell that he wasn't just thinking of her baby, but he was also remembering, regretting, what had happened to his own family. And she understood. "I appreciate that, Quint. You've been very good to me."

"You deserve nothin' less, Kitty Russell." He looked over his shoulder, and Clay was far out of earshot. "I mean, Mrs. Asper."

"You're a good man, Mr. Asper."

"You deserve a good man, Kitty. After all these years."

She swallowed hard, looked down and tugged at her gloves unnecessarily. Anything to avoid looking into Quint's earnest gaze. "Well, I…" but her response died on her lips. What could she say to that?

Quint cleared his throat and shifted his feet on the packed dirt. "Kitty, there's somethin' I want you to consider, since we're talkin' about travelin' and all. I mean…" His gaze lifted to the sky and he seemed to be gathering his courage. "I been thinkin'…I don't know that it's a good idea for you to travel anymore. You know, any distance that is. You do have that baby to consider, and you remember what happened last time you got on a train."

"I remember." Her voice was tentative, uncertain.

"Travelin' back to Dodge…it might be dangerous. For someone in your condition, y' see…"

"I think I see what you mean, Quint." She bit her bottom lip. She could feel his fingertips brushing her own through the thin fabric of her gloves.

"I wouldn't want anything to happen to you. You'll think about it?"

"I'll think about it."

One corner of his mouth drew up in a tiny smile, pleased but a little relieved. He glanced over at Clay waiting in the wagon, then back at Kitty. He grasped her fingers gently, raised them to his mouth, and brushed his lips over them warmly. "I'll see you later, Mrs. Asper."

tbc

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