THE DEPUTY: CHAPTER 3

Matt rented the biggest, strongest looking gelding at the livery in Pueblo, figuring it was going to be a long two day ride on into Trinidad. The stableman had been more than helpful with advice. He learned that the best route now was the one already marked out by the Santa Fe railroad engineers. There wasn't any bed laid and certainly no track yet, but it was clearly marked and much more direct than the old stage route. Both routes crossed at Wiley Station, the original stage stop where well water was abundant, since it was needed for both teams and steam engines. Wiley Station wasn't even built the last time Matt had been down this way, so it was a welcome thought. It was always hard to find water in this country, and the thought of being able to buy a meal for him and a corral with hay and water for his horse was a good one. Progress had come mighty fast. This had been nothing but wild, untamed country back in the days when he and Frank first crossed it. Now the stage was about to be displaced by the railroad. It made him wonder what the hell the big draw was in a godforsaken place like Trinidad. Everything he knew about the Santa Fe centered around moving people and cattle. And thank goodness for that, or Dodge wouldn't even exist.

It wasn't much cooler riding here than on the prairie, but it was different. The ever-present Sangre de Cristo range off in the distance kept a guy's sense of direction unwaveringly true. The air was hot, sure, but it was dry like the desert. The sweat that soaked through his shirt dried almost immediately, and his lips felt parched. The more he licked them, the worse they felt. The ground was almost barren except for the constant stands of yucca and the rare and feeble stands of scraggly pinon. He saw rabbits and coyotes and wondered to himself how the coyotes survived. Maybe there was enough water in the yucca leaves for rabbits. But coyotes? That was a mystery.

The sun was just past dead center overhead when he rode up on a small herd of scraggly mule deer. What his years on the prairie had taught him served him well here: Animals on the hoof, no matter how rangy, needed water. He pressed on slowly, waiting for a sign from the herd. They bounded off in three directions as he approached, their high springing gait indicating panic. But most of them stayed together, heading in one direction. Deciding they might lead him closer to some water, he took a chance on behalf of the big bay gelding and left the marked trail long enough to take a look. When the deer disappeared behind the best grove of pinon he'd seen since Pueblo, he knew he'd struck it rich. The deer and the coyotes had been digging in the sand at a spring hidden in the pinion stand. They had a small pool exposed, and it sure wasn't going to suit a big man and a big gelding, so he stepped down and started clawing at it. Big hands worked better in the sandy dirt than cloven hooves, and his efforts were quickly rewarded with a gurgling, the pool he'd dug filling with cool, clean water. He loosened the cinch and let his mount have his fill, taking time to let the horse pick his head up, empty his mouth, and then return twice more to the water to drink his fill. He soaked his bandana in the cool water and wrapped it around his neck. He filled both his canteens twice, pouring the first fills over his head and his shirt, saving the rest for the afternoon ride. When he and his horse were satisfied, he dug the pool wider and deeper, a quick gift to the animals who depended on it for water. Then he snugged up his cinch, patted the gelding, and they rode off together to re-join the marked trail.

Wiley Station was like an oasis in the parched landscape. Even in the late afternoon, he could see it on the horizon for probably five miles before he arrived, the buildings giving off wavy lines of shimmering heat like a mirage of smoke from a hundred stacks. His horse had obviously made this trip before; he picked up his pace on a slack rein without any urging at all. They covered those last five miles quickly, and in no time the big horse was standing over the water trough in front of the station. The rested team in the corral announced their arrival, and the stationmaster greeted Matt quickly.

"Howdy, Mister!" Judging by the time of day, his first question was logical. "You lookin' to put up for the night?"

"Yeah, thanks. Hay and a corral for my horse and maybe I could buy some beans and side meat for myself."

"Sure, got all that. You can bunk inside if you like. There wasn't any stage today so I don't have anybody else. It's just me and my boy that live here, we got plenty extra when the stage doesn't run. Say, you're a lawman, eh?" Matt's badge was glistening pretty obviously in the late afternoon sun. He'd shed his vest early that morning.

"Yep. U.S. Marshal out of Dodge City Kansas. Name's Dillon. Matt Dillon."

"I'm Jack Toller. You huntin' a guy?"

"Yep."

"What's he wanted for?"

"Would you care if I put my horse up and then we'll talk? He's had a long day in the sun."

"Oh, yeah, sure. Sorry. Don't get a lot of lawmen through here, guess I got nosey. Follow me, we'll get him taken care of."

The stage team welcomed the big gelding into the neighboring corral. They took turns sniffing and squealing at the newcomer, then the bay took a well-deserved roll in the sandy dirt and dove into the big pile of hay. Matt thought that looked pretty good: Food, water, a soft bed, and darned little required conversation. Horses knew how to do it. But ultimately he found himself inside the station and at the mercy of Toller's need for conversation. The food was plentiful and welcome and the water cool. He turned down the glass of whiskey Toller offered, figuring it didn't mix all that well with the heavy dose of sun he'd had all day.

"How many miles to Trinidad?" He asked between bites.

"Forty. It's an easy ride the rest of the way. You done the hard part. Get goin at first light you'll be there before it gets so hot."

"You get the railroad guys through here Jack?"

"Yeah. But once they get the line built I'll be out of work. There won't be much need for the stage line through here after that. Glad to have their business now, but it's a cryin' shame what's gonna happen here in a couple years."

"You ever know a guy named Frank Reardon?"

"That the guy you're huntin'?"

"Yeah. About six feet. Built like a bull. Small scar in front of his right ear. Always wears his hat tied on."

"What's he wanted for?"

Matt kept his composure. As much as he wanted to reach out and shake the guy, it wouldn't have helped a bit. Once in a while he could get lucky talking to a guy like this, maybe just get one little clue, and anything would help. He drew a deep breath.

"He's not wanted for anything, Jack. He's a guard for the railroad. He's a friend of mine."

With the prospect of some exciting law enforcement drama gone, Toller refilled their coffees.

"I don't know anybody like that. We get lots of those railroad guys through here. But I can tell you when you get to Trinidad ask around at the Exchange Saloon and Maria's Restaurant. The railroad guys hang out there a lot when they're in town, somebody might know him."

Bingo. It was that little clue Matt had been hoping for.

XOXOXO

Yesterday it had been easy for Kitty to formulate a plan for Lily. Now that the new day had dawned, her stomach was in a knot. It was too expensive for Lily to stay at the Dodge House and there was no place to eat. Ma Smalley had made it clear long ago that she didn't want any of the saloon girls taking up residence there, and the other small boarding houses were plenty nice enough for men but downright risky for an attractive young woman alone. The logical choice was her old rooms upstairs. Matt had said he approved. Had he said that just so he could get going and look for Frank, or did he really think about it? She knew she had to make the offer to Lily today if she was going to make the offer at all.

She got to the Long Branch at nine, well before time for Lily to show up, and headed upstairs to reflect. It seemed eerie. The stairs had led to home for a long time, but now home was somewhere else. So many memories were here. There'd been times when she climbed these stairs alone, times when she'd climbed them with Matt, times she'd known he wouldn't show up, and times she headed up to wait for him and just hope. Her mind kept spinning.

The place was bright and clean, but it needed fresh air so she opened the windows, then sat down on the big bed that she'd ordered to replace the one she and Matt had shared for so many years. She ran her hand softly over the mattress, remembering how they'd decided to put the new bed up here, and keep the old one, along with all its memories, for their new house. No regrets. Over there was the peg by the door where Matt always tossed his coat and hat when he came up the back stairs. There was the small mirror on the wall that he used when he shaved, mounted a bit too high for anyone else, of course. It didn't take much imagination for her to picture Matt coming out of the water closet, heading for the bed where she was waiting. That small mark was still on the wall where he'd ducked that time she threw her hairbrush at him, and one other made during one of his urgent needs to take her while he was still standing.

She smiled when she remembered their first date at Spring Creek, and how they'd come back here to finish their picnic and then make love all through the night; then their first private talk about sex. But the strongest memory of all was the two plus weeks they'd spent up here together while Matt recovered from Mace Gore. If she could have gone back and spared them both from that night altogether, she would have. Doc had pronounced Matt dead on Front Street. The horrible memory came flooding back. This time she was able to push it away, probably because she'd practiced pushing it away time after time. The thought was replaced with the joy they had in each other's arms, here in this room, for those weeks while he healed. This place had seen it all. No one else who stayed here would ever know. Could she do it? Could she give up these rooms? With everything else that had changed in her life and in Matt's life in the last year, it was time. She snapped out of her daydream when she heard footsteps on the stairs.

"Kitty?" Lily's voice was tentative. "Kitty, it's me, Lily."

"In here, Lily, come on in."

"Rob said you were up here. I hope you don't mind."

"No, not at all," Kitty smiled. "I wanted you to look at this anyway, Lily. If you'd like to have the job, these rooms go with it."

Kitty stood back so Lily could walk around and survey everything. Kitty talked while Lily looked.

"The bed and those two chairs come with it, but I'm afraid we'll have to shop for more furniture. Matt and I took everything else when we moved into our house."

Lily stopped looking, ignored the comment about the furniture, and focused entirely on Kitty.

"Kitty, does that mean you're offering me the job?" Her expression was stone cold serious.

"Yes, if you'd like to have it. I sure would like to have you here with us." Kitty's smile was warm and genuine. "I've been at this day and night for twelve years and all it does is get busier. I need fewer hours, not more. You're just what the Long Branch needs."

Lily smiled back warmly and extended her hand to Kitty's to seal the deal.

"Kitty, thank you! I'm SO excited about this! We can work together! Gosh, I can't even believe it! Floor manager of the famous Long Branch saloon!"

Maybe it was because Kitty felt like a giant weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Her return smile and warm handshake were nothing short of infectious. Maybe it was because she needed to slow her mind down by making small talk about mundane things; she returned the topic to the furniture.

"So . . . you'll need furniture. There are two real good places to shop in Dodge. You can stop into . . ."

"Anywhere you want to send me, it's no problem." Lily turned the conversation right back to the rooms. "You and Matt lived here?"

"Mmmm Hmmm. For a while, right after we got married, until we bought our house. That was just last year."

Lily was drawing a blank, then it dawned on her.

"You're newlyweds! But Matt said you've been together for twelve years!" Her eyes were wide.

"Yeah. For the longest time he thought a lawman couldn't have a wife. Guess he decided the jig was up last year." Kitty was smiling, but she was definitely done with the personal revelations.

"No wonder he knew all about the back stairs." As soon as Lily had said it, she wished she hadn't.

"Excuse me?" Kitty caught her.

"The back stairs. You know. Matt must have played the back stairs game for a long time."

"I'm all ears, Lily. You had back stairs at the Bird Cage, then."

"It wasn't as nice as this. But yeah, the layout was the same."

Kitty was keenly aware of Lily's immediate change of expression and mood. What she didn't know was that she'd completely misunderstood both. Suddenly, the silence in the room was deafening. Lily walked over to the back door, opened it, looked out at the stairs, then closed it softly and faced Kitty. She may have been the junior member of the new team, but she was smart as a whip, and she knew Kitty needed to hear more. She just wondered if she could get through it.

"I'm guessing Matt didn't tell you about my back stairs in Laramie."

"No." Kitty's reply was curt and cold. Instantly, Lily knew why.

"Dan Troop and I were lovers for four years, Kitty. He came up the back stairs and slept with me every night he was in town. It was right after rounds that night. He was on his way up the stairs. . ." Her voice broke and her eyes filled with tears, but she continued.

"That man, I'll never say his name again. That man back shot Dan on the fourth step, Kitty!" The tears were coming now. She unceremoniously wiped her nose with her sleeve.

"My God!" She sobbed. "Just imagine! Just imagine opening the door to see Matt lying in a pool of blood right out there! Maybe you can think . . ." but she stopped herself, too overcome by the thought to go on.

Kitty blew out a huge breath.

"Lily, I'm SO sorry," she said softly. "My head was in the wrong place. I don't know how you can forgive me. I'm SO very sorry about what happened to Dan! Sit down, please. I'll go downstairs and get some coffee for us."

All the way down to the bar and then on the return trip Kitty beat herself up for her thoughts. How could she possibly have thought Lily was talking about Matt? They'd been together for a dozen years. They'd trusted each other implicitly. Now she was his wife. Their love was unconditional. How in the hell could she ever have these disgusting doubts? Why would she ever let jealousy even be a word in her vocabulary now? Her stomach was in a knot again by the time she got back upstairs and handed the coffee to Lily.

"Thank you, Kitty." Lily had done a remarkable job of regaining her composure. "I want to clear the air about your husband."

"You don't have to do that, Lily. I trust him."

"I know that, but I want to anyway. I want to because he was so amazingly kind to me. Kitty, he understood immediately about how much Dan and I loved each other. And yeah, he knew about the back stairs, but he never once used them. Not once. He's the one who did the whole investigation thing, remember? Kitty, we spent a lot of late nights in my rooms trying to lure the guy in, wanting the guy to think Matt was my new Dan. We played checkers, we played gin rummy, we talked about the saloon business. But you know what? The one thing he would never talk about was YOU. And it wasn't because I didn't ask him. And it wasn't because I didn't fall for him. I did, and he completely rejected me."

Both women let that hang there for a minute. Then Lily went on.

"All I remember about Matt was thinking how perfect he was. My gosh, he was handsomer than handsome, big, beautiful, just everything! He was smart, he had a great sense of humor, he was brave. He wore that big gold ring every minute, but he wouldn't say one word about his wife! That last day, after the trial, he explained it all to me. I wish you could have heard him. He explained that he'd never talk about his wife in his line of duty because his most important job was to protect her. But once the whole investigation and trial were history and he was headed home, he wanted to tell me about you. And what he told me was that he loves you beyond anything or anyone he has ever loved in his life. He said you taught him everything he knew about love. He said it was simply not possible for him to betray you, his love was too strong. And then he changed the subject and told me about you owning the Long Branch. And that, Kitty, is absolutely all I know about you and Matt Dillon."

tbc