THE DEPUTY: CHAPTER 8

The Long Branch was going full tilt by ten. Kitty was glad she'd come back to help Sam and Rob, and it was just like old times being behind the bar. Cowboy after cowboy remembered her from drives past; she was never at a loss for conversation. She hadn't lost her touch, yes indeed, still had her game. She could take orders, pour drinks and clean up the return all the while laughing and talking with the men who'd come in to see her. Quint came in and joined Doc at he back table, and she noticed that too. It was a busy night, and it felt wonderful. Jenny's faro table was non-stop with the typical waiting line. And Ollie was watching over it all.

Almost midnight, Kitty noticed Doc dozing in his chair at the back table.

"Curly." She shook his shoulder gently. He raised his head quickly.

"You ready to go home?"

"No," she smiled. "But I think you should."

Quint took the lead. "Go on home, Doc. I'll walk Kitty home. I live right next door to her, remember?"

"Go ahead, Curly," Kitty encouraged. "Faro closes in a few minutes and this place always clears out fast after that. I won't keep Quint up late, I promise."

"By gosh I'll just take you up on that Quint," and he stood up to leave. When he did, he brushed against a disheveled young man who didn't look anything like one of the trailhands. The guy gave Doc a hard enough shove that it sent him smashing up against the wall.

"Watch who yer' pushin' around, old man!" The guy screamed at Doc.

Quint was on his feet instantly, spun the guy around and decked him with one massive punch to the jaw. Kitty already had hold of one of Doc's arms, and Quint turned around to take the other.

"I'm okay, I'm fine." Doc was doing his best to reassure his friends. "No harm done, I'm fine. Thanks for stopping him."

Ollie was at the scene instantly and stood over the unconscious man.

"You wantin' me to carry him to the jail Miss Kitty?"

"No!" Doc wasn't about to let Kitty get mixed up in such a simple altercation. "No! There's nothing to put him in jail for. He shoved me. That's it. Quint stopped him. Haul him outside and wake him up in the horse trough so he can be on his way."

"You ever see this guy before, Kitty?" Quint was curious about the guy's odd appearance.

"No. Judging from the fact that he's been on the floor there for five minutes and nobody's come to give him a hand, he's just some lone saddle bum."

"I take him out now Miss Kitty, okay?" Ollie looked to his boss for permission.

"Yes Ollie, please."

"You want a hand?" Quint asked.

Ollie Dobbs was the master of stoicism, but this time he couldn't help the broad grin that crept across his face.

"Nah. I got two of 'em. I can manage."

It was more than an understatement. He threw the unconscious man over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carried him through the batwings to the water out front. The show was enough to draw a crowd of well-lubricated trailhands, who followed outside and cheered while Ollie gave the guy three unceremonious dunks clear to the shoulders in the horse trough. The third time the guy came up sputtering and cussing, resulting in another round of cheers from the cowboys. It was the epitome of humiliation. But Ollie didn't care. He spun the guy around, aimed him down the boardwalk, and gave him two big love taps on the butt to send him on his way.

"Change of heart, Quint. I'll get my reticule. You can walk me home right now. That little adventure spoiled the night for me." Kitty took Doc's hand and kissed it lovingly. "You get some rest, Curly. I'll see you tomorrow."

XOXOXO

The first thing Matt noticed when he rode into Ashland was that it was booming. Hadn't been a year since he'd been here and it was almost unrecognizable. At least half a dozen new businesses had opened: Most notably a large office next to the sheriff's with a sign out front that read "REAL ESTATE" in huge block letters. He got a stall for Buck at the livery and went to see Sheriff Suhr. Instantly, Suhr recognized him.

"Matt!" He came around the desk to shake his friend's hand. "Matt, you got here fast! Thanks for coming. Trip good?"

"Good as any when you have to sleep on the ground, Pat." Matt was anxious to get to the point. What's up with your telegram?"

"You see the real estate office next door?"

"How could I miss it?"

The sheriff took a deep breath. "Sit down, Matt."

"That sign makes it look like some local businessman is selling land. That's what the homesteaders think when they roll in here. Except it's a little more complicated than that. There's a deal called the Pacific Railroad Act that the US government passed that gave hundreds of times more land grants to the Santa Fe than the homesteaders got. The settlers got lured here by all the ads in newspapers back east promising quick land deals handed over by the railroad for parcels a lot larger than 140 acres and at a lot less money, too. Promised 'em the land was great for farming with the best soil, ample water and of course the very best climate for growing crops. With me so far?"

Matt smiled. The last part of Pat's speech hit home. He'd seen newspaper ads like those before.

"Go ahead."

"So, these people come rolling in here in their wagons with their families and all their earthly belongings. They come from Indiana, Ohio, Kentucky, all those crowded places back east. They think they're gonna get rich farming this fertile country, right? None of 'em has ever seen the west. They think it looks like back home. They left behind the offices where they got their homestead piece and came here thinking it'd be easy to get more. Follow me."

He opened the door to the jail. Two of the three cells had two men in it; one had three of them.

"I had to arrest these men. They're not criminals. They're settlers with wives and kids. They bought parcels from the railroad, right alongside the parcels they got granted to 'em. They bought 'em from the so-called real estate office next door. Then the railroad came along and claimed eminent domain and filed claims against the very land they'd sold to these guys. They lost their money. Worse yet, now that they're here, they know this land isn't fit for growing anything except prairie dogs."

None of the men in the cells uttered a word. They had no idea who Matt was, and it didn't matter. They were away from their families, stuck in lives of desperation. Sheriff Suhr closed the jail door and motioned to Matt to sit again.

"The real estate office next door is owned by the Santa Fe, Matt. Each of the guys I got locked up walked into the office armed and threatened the agent. What was I supposed to do? I'm a town sheriff not a US marshal. I keep the peace here, but I'll be damned if I can settle land disputes for the federal government. I had no choice but to send that telegram to you. I need help, and I need it fast."

For all of two minutes, Matt Dillon was dumbfounded. Then his mind started racing like a galloping horse. The sheriff had time to pour them each a cup of coffee.

"A quick buck instead of seeing the big picture." Matt muttered. "The settlers need the railroad. The railroad needs the settlers. The town needs both. They're fighting their own customers."

"Yeah. Agreed. And I can't do a thing about it because it's all legal. So now my jail's full of the people I'm supposed to protect."

"Well, it might be legal at the land office but it's sure not by the law. Where's your newspaper office?"

"C'mon, I'll walk you over there."

The two lawmen made the short walk to the printer.

"I'm U.S. Marshal Matt Dillon." Matt announced to the pressman, brandishing his credentials for the man to study. "I need a sign printed right now." He spread his arms to indicate a substantial size. "Big, dark letters please. Write on it 'CLOSED BY ORDER OF UNITED STATES GOVERNMENT.' And right under that print my name, 'Matt Dillon, U.S. Marshal, Dodge City Kansas'."

"Yes Sir, Marshal, yes sir!" The pressman seemed almost giddy in his eagerness to comply. "Take me maybe half an hour by the time I set it and print it."

"We'll wait."

The two men moved over to a bench in the corner while they watched the guy busy himself with his typesetting.

"You're gonna shut 'em down Matt?"

"You bet I am. That'll stop the bleeding for now. You can release the guys you're holding, on my order. What we've got to do is switch out your guests. How many agents work in that office?"

"There's two guys, the boss and some flunkie. They trade off days."

"Well, their lives are at risk until this mess simmers down, which is exactly what it'll do with that office closed. Are you willing to lock 'em both up on protective custody until I can get a railroad guard in here to watch 'em?"

"A railroad guard! That's pretty clever! Yeah, sure I can do that. Lots easier to watch two than the crowd I've got now."

"Tomorrow I'll need to get a list of all the property sales that got taken back in eminent domain. The agents can provide that, then you can take 'em into custody. There's a Santa Fe guard in Dodge and two more working at Garden City. I'll wire the Santa Fe in Dodge and have them send a guard down right away. I know I can get Senator McGovern to fix this mess with the crooked land sales but I need time to get a letter off to him. I'll write it all out tomorrow. Mail's faster out of Dodge so I'll send it from there when I get home. Hell, I can put it on the train!"

"What a twist that is."

The sheriff was sure right. The Santa Fe would be delivering the bad news for the Santa Fe. It almost seemed laughable.

XOXOXO

Kitty was headed home at five. Broad daylight, quiet. Not many trailhands around yet. She hadn't gotten fifty feet down the boardwalk when she saw the same scruffy man approaching. A chill went up her spine at the sight of him, remembering the night before. It was a snap decision that made her turn back toward the Long Branch, and her good fortune to see Ollie Dobbs approaching from the other direction. Of course! It was time for his shift, and he was never late. God bless Ollie! The huge man closed step on her quickly, tipped his hat to her, and held one of the doors open for her to enter.

The instant she did, Ollie Dobbs crumpled to the ground at her feet with a bullet in his back.

There wasn't time to be scared. Bear's huge frame still blocked the door open, and the horrible stranger was still coming with his gun trained on his fallen victim. She saw him cock the hammer. She had a split second to react, and react she did. She slid her revolver out of her pocket and instantly fired two shots straight into the man's belly. The first words she heard weren't from any of the onlookers. They were from her head, in Matt's voice, when he was teaching her to fire the gun that day in Colorado: "Don't be tryin' to be a sweetheart and shoot him in the foot. If some guy is after you, put a bullet in his gut or his chest. Those are big targets at close range. You got that?" She stood there stunned, heart racing, listening to Matt.

Sam, Rob and two trailhands were on the scene instantly. One of them pushed her into the building and then she saw them all bent over Ollie. Kitty managed to exhale when she heard the big man moan.

"I'll get Doc!" Without waiting for any kind of a reply she pushed her way through the tangled mess of people in the doorway and ran down the street, dodging approaching riders, trying to get her breath, wishing she could fly. Doc heard her staccato steps coming up the stairs. He was at the door before she even reached the landing.

"Get your bag!" She wheezed. "Long Branch! Ollie Dobbs shot! Hurry!" She clung to the railing, gasping for air. Bare headed and bag in hand, Doc tapped her arm reassuringly when he passed her on his way. There was no time for words.

Doc had trotted halfway down the street when she finally allowed herself to be terrified and crumpled to her knees. She whispered a little prayer. "Please God, save Ollie! Oh, please!" Then the tears came. Between them she could see Matt, she could feel Matt, holding her in his arms, reassuring her, telling her she'd done what she had to do. There was no other way. The guy was going to put another bullet in Ollie. That split second decision was one Matt had to make day in and day out for his entire career. It was horrible! Why did anyone ever have to kill another human being? Her angst morphed into shock. She stood up long enough to stagger into Doc's office. She felt for her pocket. Her gun was gone. Where was it? Maybe she hadn't really used it. Maybe she'd forgotten it at home. Maybe . . .then her ears started ringing, the room began spinning, and she collapsed to the floor.

"Miss Kitty." The voice was uncharacteristically soft. "Miss Kitty, it's Festus. Take another whiff a' this here now." He passed the smelling salts under her nose again. She batted her eyes until they focused. Sure enough, it was Festus. She looked around. It was Doc's back room, and her friend had her stretched out on the bed.

"Festus! Where's Doc?" Her eyes were getting wide now. Everything was coming back. It hadn't been a dream.

"Doc's with Ollie out front. Took four of us ta' carry him up here but by gosh we got 'er done. We found you on th' floor out yonder. He's hurt, Miss Kitty. Doc's workin' on him."

She closed her eyes and breathed out a heavy sigh.

"Thank God he's alive."

"Yes'm he shore is. Reckon it'd take more'n one bullet ta' stop a bear."

"I wish Matt was here."

"Waaal, we don't need no more law right now. Thet thar yayhoo what shot Ollie, he's dead. Ain't nobody ta' lock up or nuthin'."

But Kitty didn't need Matt for more law. She just wanted her husband. She turned her head, taking her gaze away from Festus.

"I killed him, then."

"Yes'm. You saved Ollie from dyin' right thar on th' boardwalk. Guy had th' hammer back ta' put another slug in him when you fired. Oh, an' I got yer revolver right here. Found it on th' floor at th' Long Branch." He set the small handgun on the nightstand. "Matthew set 'ya up with this little revolver I'd be a-guessin."

She turned her head back to her friend and laid her hand on his. "My wedding present."

"I might'a knowed it! Why that Matthew . . ." but Kitty patted him on the hand to stop him and sat up.

"I'm going out front to see how Ollie is. Thank you for waking me up, Festus."

Festus steadied her while she stood in the doorway and looked at the scene on Doc's table. Sam was there, dutifully adding drops of chloroform to the cloth over the big man's face, just as she had done so many times. Sensing her presence, Doc looked up briefly from his work. He knew she needed to hear something good.

"He's gonna be all right, Kitty. The bullet's out. Missed his lung. I'm closing now. Festus'll take you home and stay with you tonight."

"I'll be fine, Doc. I don't need . . ."

"DOCTOR'S ORDERS!" He barked. And that quickly, he was back to his patient.

XOXOXO

Kitty was drinking coffee with Doc in his front room, both of them watching Ollie Dobbs sleep soundly on the table where just the night before, his life had hung in the balance. His breathing was normal, his color good, but it was still a vigil.

"Can we have some of the men move him to the bed in back, Doc? I can go find a few."

"Not yet. Not till tonight. Want him quiet for now. How are you doing?"

She took a deep breath. "Why does he always have to be gone when something awful happens?"

"You saved Ollie's life, Kitty. You stood up on your own. Matt'll be real proud of you."

"I took another life. I don't know how he ever does it."

"Kitty, anyone who carries a gun ultimately has to make a choice. Matt has never used his gun on anyone who didn't make a bad choice with a gun first, and neither have you. Somehow you've just got to come to grips with that."

Kitty studied the big man on the table, then Doc, in silence. She knew he was right, but it didn't take the chill away. She wanted Matt's arms around her, the place of solace she'd come to depend on when things got tough. Those arms. Those big, strong, beautiful arms. She was headed for a trance, then caught herself.

"I'll go get some breakfast for you and bring it up. You need anything else?"

"Thanks, Kitty. Nothing else. That'd be real kind of you."

Festus flagged her down on the boardwalk.

"Miss Kitty!" He was waving an envelope. "I got this 'ere tellygram for 'ya. Barney says it's from Matthew."

"Thanks, Festus." She smiled and ripped into the envelope. Knowing Festus wasn't about to leave the scene until he knew what it said, she read it out loud. Except, of course, for the code at the end which was abundantly clear to her but would raise all kinds of inappropriate questions from the hill man.

"Leaving Ashland before dawn tomorrow STOP Home late tomorrow night STOP PT STOP Matt"

"Dang, Miss Kitty, thet thar's a mighty long one day ride. Ain't much water after Bluff Creek neither."

But she smiled softly, her first bright smile since before last night, so glad to know she'd be only one more night without his arms around her.

"Oh, Festus. He knows what he's doing. We both know that!"

Festus swung his head around at the commotion down the street. There were two men at the marshal's office, and one of them was beating on the locked door.

"What in th' name of seventeen billygoats . . .I'd better git on down thar. Sure could use another guy," he muttered softly as he turned and walked away.

Festus all but ignored the stranger while he fixed his gaze on the man he recognized.

"Waaal, I'll be a son of a ring tailed badger! You sorry hoot!" He pounded the young man on the shoulder enough to make him stagger back. "Tip Dooley, you sorry . . ."

But the young man clearly remembered, even after all this time. You had to stop Festus, especially when he was celebrating.

"Festus Haggen, you're a sight for sore eyes!" Dooley was grinning from ear to ear. "Deputy Festus Haggen, this here's Deputy John Foster from Hays."

Festus extended his hand, noticing the man's badge. "Sorry, Foster. I go back a ways with Dooley an' I kinda' got carried away n' all."

John Foster shook Festus's hand, acknowledging the badge on the hill man's chest but little else. His face was straight, no sign of the delight Festus and Dooley were obviously sharing.

"Deputy Haggen, I'm here to turn this man over to Marshal Matt Dillon, his work release officer."

"Yer jes' gonna hafta' release him ta' me, Deppity on account a th' marshal ain't here." Festus was still giddy at seeing Tip.

The man shook his head. "Only Marshal Dillon. Those are my orders."

"Like I was a-sayin," Festus squinted seriously at the man. "He ain't here. Now you kin jes' release him ta' me an' I'll look after th' boy. I know him real good, he ain't goin' nowhere."

"When's the marshal back?"

"Dunno. Couple a' days I reckon."

"I'll wait. Lock him up."

Tip Dooley could see the standoff cascading out of control and decided to head it off. He'd waited a long time for this day. A couple more wouldn't make a difference. He already felt like he was home.

"Festus, it's okay. Lock me up. Been locked up for a year. I'm so glad to be here!"

Festus sighed and realized it was a good choice. He escorted Dooley inside and put him in the double cell. Tip Dooley gave his old friend a big smile and a thumbs up.

"Deppity Foster, you kin bunk out front since yer watchin' yer special prisoner n'all. I kin bring yer food when I bring Dooley's."

"Thank you, Deputy Haggen."

tbc