Doc stared at Sam open-mouthed, and the trio of young outlaws looked at each other and laughed.
"Hope she ain't as ugly as YOU, barkeep!" Curly crowed.
"Go on up and fetch her, Curly," Marcus ordered, curious as to what she would look like.
"She's out of town visiting friends. I don't expect her back until tomorrow night."
Only Sam and Matt were positioned so that they could see Kitty lying on the floor upstairs, peering through the banister, Derringer in her hand. Her thick red tresses hung loosely about her shoulders, her yellow blouse and dark blue skirt were only partially buttoned, and no shoes were on her feet. She had been awakened by the two shots, and had cautiously crept from her room. Somehow she knew it was more than boisterous cowboys celebrating.
Matt was now fully awake and shook his head at her, shifting his eyes back and forth from the small gun in her hand to her eyes, desperately trying to communicate with her. Big Sam met her eyes and mouthed "GO! GET OUT!"
Both Matt and Sam were relieved to see her look down at them with tears running down her face, then slowly crawl back through the curtain leading to the hall outside of her room.
"Curly, go on up and check those rooms. Which one is your wife's, Ugly?"
Sam pointed above his head, indicating the front corner of the saloon upstairs. He prayed that Kitty had gotten down the back stairs in time.
"Ah, Marcus," Curly whined, "I'm hungry! And when are we gonna finish off these lawmen and rob the bank?!" Slim also looked over with a question in his eyes.
"Now you two LISTEN to me!" The blond young man glanced at the big clock on the back wall. "We got seven hours 'till dawn! After we eat somethin', we'll shoot them two and take this old man with us to the banker's house and get him to open his bank and safe. We'll be outta town in about two hours, loaded down with MONEY, and with no lawmen to follow us!"
The three saloon girls huddled behind Sam by the bar, silently wondered what their fate would be.
Curly flung back the door to room after room as he walked down the hall on the second floor. Pushing through the curtains at the end, he checked the two rooms towards the back, and turned towards the suite in the front corner.
Slamming the door open, he stepped inside, gun still drawn. The young man had been abandoned when a toddler and raised in the streets. He had never seen a room as fancy as this one, and was stunned at the separate bathing room with the ornate tub. The rooms were empty and he continued to slowly walk around, touching and staring. Checking the closets, he found a smaller one containg dress clothes for a big man. As he headed back towards the door, he spotted a jewelry box, opened it, and greedily scooped the glittering contents into his pants pockets.
Moments before Curly had reached her hallway, Kitty had quietly made her way towards the back entrance with a small carpetbag containing lingerie and toiletries. After creeping back to her room a few minutes ago, she had quickly thrown these token items into her small traveling bag, buttoned and straightened her clothing, pulled her hair back with a clip, and slipped into flat shoes. Putting the Derringer into her reticule, she grabbed a shawl and made her plan as she headed for the back stairs.
Once outside, she ran to Doc's office and unlocked his door with the spare key she always kept in the reticule hanging from her wrist.
"Now where does he keep them? Oh, THINK, KITTY, THINK!" Her sharp eyes scanned the room, then stopped at the desk against the wall. She rushed over and began rifling through the drawers.
Smiling with satisfaction, the young woman pulled a six-gun out from under a stack of papers in the middle right-hand drawer. Checking that it was fully loaded, she shoved it in the waistband of her skirt. Then she squatted down and dug deeply into the bottom drawer until she unearthed Doc's old percussion pistol, which was also loaded. Standing up, she shoved that pistol into her waistband too, put her shawl on to cover both, grabbed her small carpetbag, and ran back to the Long Branch.
She stood in front of the locked front doors for only a moment, slowing her breathing and making herself smile. Then she rapped on the doors.
"SAM! SAM! Open up! It's me, Kitty!"
Marcus and his two gang members were sitting at a table eating sandwiches that Sam had made, and looked at the door in surprise. Dropping his food onto his plate, Marcus stood up and motioned for Curly to cover the saloon girls. After pointing for Slim to take Sam to the front doors, the gang boss went back to the bound lawmen and pointed his gun at them.
"Let her in Sam." Marcus ordered. He didn't want the woman to wake up the town, and still wondered what the bartender's wife looked like.
Reluctantly opening the doors, Sam tried to turn Kitty away, but she dropped her carpetbag, pushed him back, put her arms around him and kissed his lips and his craggy cheek. His broad back blocked her view into the room.
"Hello Dear, I decided to come home early when John and Alice got into a big argument." She kept Sam's back towards the armed men and carefully slipped Doc's six-shooter from her waistband into his, pulling his brocade vest down over the handle.
Startled, Sam saw the handle of the old percussion gun in her waistband as she moved her shawl aside a little. Their eyes met in instant understanding and he nodded almost imperceptibly.