A Change in Plans
An ATC for "The Foundling"
by Lilyjack
Chapter 14
"Glimpses"
A remarkably big man stood at the bar of the Long Branch in Dodge City, Kansas, downing the last of his cold beer. "Barkeep," the red-bearded man boomed out. Silver-haired Floyd noted the impressive scar the man sported near his temple. The stranger gestured to his empty glass, still wet with condensation. "I'll have another."
"Comin' right up," Floyd amiably replied, wiping his damp hands on a white cotton towel. It was early afternoon, and there were scant customers to demand the bartender's attention. It was quiet, with only a couple of murmured conversations to be heard in the room. Floyd pulled a foaming beer expertly from the tap and carried the mug over to the big man.
"Thanks, barkeep. I don't believe I've seen you in here before. Where's the reg'lar bartender?"
"I've only been at the Long Branch a few months," Floyd answered. "Sam Noonan worked here for years and years. But he passed, real sudden-like in his sleep, rest his soul. Floyd's the name," the older man offered, extending his hand across the polished wood of the bar. "You from around here, Mister?"
"Flowers. Delbert Flowers. Pleased to make your acquaintance." The two men firmly shook hands, and Delbert Flowers continued, "Naw, I ain't from around here, but I always stop by for a beer when I'm in Dodge on business once or twice a year. I'm from St. Louie."
Floyd nodded. "St. Louie's a big town. Lot bigger'n Dodge. I been there a time or two myself."
"That it is," Flowers agreed, swiping yeasty foam from his mustache with the back of a hammy hand. "Say, lemme ask you a question. That real purty red-headed lady, she still run this place?"
"Miss Kitty? Sure! This here's her place."
"Well…" Delbert Flowers looked thoughtful, beer in mid-air. "…reason I was askin' is, I coulda' swore I saw her in St. Louie a few weeks ago. It's hard to miss that red hair and them big blue eyes a' hers. She's a looker, that one is."
Floyd listened intently, polishing a clean glass. "Well, Mister, she ain't here right now. But she ain't in St. Louie either. She's way down south in New Orleans, Louisiana, with her sick cousin."
"Yeah? Well, this lady here did look a little diff'ernt in her personal appearance. You know, not painted up or wearin' a fancy evenin' dress like usual. This here lady was married, too, and I think she was in the family way. But, I swear to goodness, she coulda been Miss Kitty's twin." Flowers took another deep draw from his mug. "That's why I was askin'. It surprised me is all."
"Huh, you don't say. Well, folks do say we all have a twin somewhere it this big world. Maybe that was Miss Kitty's."
"I reckon is was."
Delbert and Floyd continued to talk about St. Louis, while a tall man with a badge sat alone at a table in the corner listening quietly to their conversion. His hand went to his vest pocket, reaching inside to touch Kitty's folded telegram he'd received from New Orleans last week. His throat tight and his heart heavy, Matt Dillon wondered when she'd be coming home to him.
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Kitty Russell awkwardly bent forward over a washbasin placed on the kitchen table, her back aching like hell. Her hair was sopping wet, her skin soaked, and rivulets of water were rapidly coursing onto her chemise and drawers. She was a mess. Dammit, it'd never been this hard to wash her hair before she was pregnant.
Now her eyes were stinging with rosewater hair wash dripping into them. She groped blindly for the towel she distinctly remembered placing right beside her on the table. Unable for the life of her lay her hands on it, she cursed a blue streak, then opened one eye a slit. And promptly spotted a male torso standing directly beside her. She jerked upright, exclaiming and splattering water all over.
Placing a hand on her heaving chest, Kitty gasped, "Quint!" She curled an aggravated lip as she raked sodden tresses out of her face.
"I'm sorry, Kitty! I didn't mean to scare you!" He gestured to the table. "I was just gonna hand you your towel. You were havin' a tough time and I…" His explanation drifted off, and he decided to just hurry up and hand her the towel instead.
"Thanks." The corners of her mouth turned down, perturbed at being caught by Quint once again in her drawer tail. "I thought you were at the shop!" She wiped her face and stinging eyes while her streaming hair continued to wet her clothing.
"I was," he answered a little defensively. "But it's nearly lunchtime. I thought I'd…surprise ya'…" He attempted a half-hearted smile. "Guess I did that, huh?"
"Well, you most certainly did. I had no idea it was so late." She used the towel to squeeze water from the ends of her hair as she heaved a weary sigh. "But after gatherin' all my supplies, haulin' water in here, stokin' up the fire, heatin' the water on the stove and makin' my hair wash, I'm too tuckered out to wash my damn hair anymore. Besides, my back can't take hangin' over this washbasin a minute longer. This baby business is a lot harder than it looks."
"You were haulin' water? Hell, Kitty!"
"How else am I supposed to do it?"
"You gotta tell me, Kitty. That's what I'm for. I don't want you t' hurt yourself or the baby."
"Quint, you hafta go to work. And, well, Sam always used to get my water for me until…" Kitty's eyes brimmed, suddenly and intensely missing her old bartender and dear friend who'd passed away. He'd been her right-hand man, and she had felt lost without him.
Kitty was exhausted, aching, and frustrated, and thinking about Sam was her undoing. "Oh, Quint, I miss him so much." She hiccupped a sob, then gestured to the puddled floor and table. "And here I've made a mess of your kitchen and…"
Quint held up his hands. "Whoa, whoa, whoa…hold it, honey. Don't worry about the damn kitchen. Let me help you."
Simply nodding her head in mute surrender, she smeared an already damp palm ineffectually beneath her streaming eyes, then splayed her hands in the small of her aching back.
"Just sit down right here, sweetheart," he instructed, turning a chair so the back was against the table. "… and I'll take care of everything. It'll be done before you know it. Easy as pie. Here, let me rub your back for ya'. Bella's back ached somethin' fierce, and this always helped her." He kneeled beside her, rubbing his hand firmly over her throbbing back, pressing and gently kneading. Within moments, her sniffling quieted and her eyes drifted shut.
"That feel good?"
"Mm-hmm…" Kitty swayed with the back and forth movements of his skillful hand over her smooth back.
Quint closed his own eyes for a moment, trying not to openly stare at Kitty's voluptuous figure, her underthings, wet through, clinging to her pregnancy-enhanced curves. She had always been a beautiful, well-endowed woman, but she was nearly overpowering to his senses in this bewitching state, even with the baby in her belly rounding out her body. Kitty's lusciously ripe form, the scent of her dewy skin and long, drenched, tangled locks and…
Quint Asper's eyes mutinously opened once more, and he observed Kitty sensuously shivering in pleasure, gooseflesh rising on her arms with his ministrations, telltale pink rosebuds beginning to pucker beneath the nearly transparent saturated fabric of her delicate chemise. Quint began feeling a mite dizzy. He stood, a little unsteady on his feet, and Kitty opened hooded eyes to look up at him, bereft at the loss of his hand massaging her muscles.
He quickly offered, "I'll help you wash your hair now, okay?"
"Okay…" Exhausted by her unsuccessful attempt to handle this task on her own, she'd wholly surrendered herself to Quint's care.
He placed a clean, folded towel to pad the edge of the table and another in the small of her back. "Just a minute…" he bade her, rolling up his sleeves past his elbows.
She watched him find a big enamel pitcher and fill it almost full of water from the heating reservoir on the stove. He stuck in his finger to test it and then dipped out some cool water from the bucket, swirling it in with his hand. "Lean back over the basin," he instructed. He supported the back of her head in the palm of one hand, fingers threading through her hair as he carefully poured warm water from the pitcher over her scalp.
Kitty mutely watched his sinewy arms, made strong from years of demanding work, as he moved over her. Despite the warm water, his touch made her shiver.
"Rest your shoulders on the towel. I've got ya'." He could feel her taut muscles relaxing, could see the tension in her face easing. "This your rosewater? In this bottle?" he asked.
A quiet "Mm-hmm…" was the only response he got from her. Quint was beginning to relax, too. He never enjoyed seeing Kitty upset, and this was a definite improvement.
He poured a little of the scented tonic over her hair and began gently scrubbing, massaging his fingertips carefully, rhythmically, over her scalp. He was actually a little relieved when her sultry blue eyes drifted shut. It was difficult to concentrate with her gazing at him, when he was acutely aware of the deep sighs of satisfaction she emitted, her lush bosom rising and falling, her nipples tightening further with every stroke of his hands.
Mentally shaking himself, he swirled his hands in the basin and used the pitcher of clear water to rinse her hair. He carefully combed his fingers through, untangling it as it floated like wet seaweed in the washbasin. It felt wonderfully soft, deliciously tickling his skin. His voice sounded rough to his own ears, strangled with emotion as he reluctantly told her, "Sit up, let's dry you off."
She took a deep, satisfied breath, her breasts pressing against the wet chemise, and he could feel exquisite tightening in his own chest, in his groin. Slicking his hands over her drenched hair, he gently squeezed the excess water back into the basin and grabbed a towel. First pressing the soft fabric firmly against her ropey, wet tresses, Quint then dabbed it tenderly at her temple, on her neck, to catch stray drops of water. He murmured thickly, "Jesus, you're beautiful, you know that?"
At his words, she cast down her eyes, and seeming for the first time to notice her nearly transparent clothing, crossed her arms at the wrists and held them over her bosom. She murmured, "Thank you, Quint. You've been so good to me…kind and patient."
He cleared his throat and quickly wrapped the towel around her shoulders, overlapping it in front. "Please…don't feel beholden to me, Kitty. You don't owe me anything."
"I appreciate that more than you know."
He sighed. "You best get upstairs and change those wet things before you catch cold."
Impetuously, she leaned in and touched her soft lips to his flushed cheek, then rose to climb the stairs and get dressed.
tbc
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