DERAILED: CHAPTER 2
The tracks took off north from the old stage road.
"Ruth, ol' Matthew was a'gonna take th' shortcut here. He's remembrin' about th' crick down below n' lookin' fer a place ta' camp, so we'll jes' do th' same thing. 'Sides, them's some ugly clouds rollin' in."
Festus put spur to his mule and jogged up the gentle slope, all the while studying the tracks on the ground in front of him. They sure weren't fresh, but the nail imprints in the shoes were deep and solid from a big horse and a heavy rider. He remembered Quint putting new fronts on Buck just the day before Matt left. They were Buck's tracks, all right. He studied the trail, humming a little tune to himself more out of personal pride than anything else, when Ruth rolled back over his hocks and let out a beller, almost dumping his rider. Festus hauled on the reins, then popped Ruth hard with the bight to turn him back around.
"You ol' scamp," he fussed at the animal. "You like ta' set me on my ass thar! Why you know a darn sight better than ta' pull a stunt like that!"
He put spur to Ruth again, but this time he got no response. Ruth's legs were planted, his ears glued straight ahead, and he wasn't about to move forward. Festus looked up the slope straight through that big pair of ears, and when he did, his heart started pounding.
"Matthew!"
Years of experience riding just about anything with hooves made his instincts kick into gear. He didn't want to dismount. If Ruth panicked and bolted, he'd be a man alone on foot for who knows how long. It was safer to stay mounted, and he knew he could always get a horse or a mule to circle something frightening. So he started in patiently, making the circle smaller and smaller until Ruth could easily see that it wasn't moving. Nothing to fear, at least for a mule. Problem was, Festus could see it clearly now. He made sure to step off Ruth upwind, then led him down to the carcass as close as his rein would allow. If fear could be measured by the speed of his heart, Festus was afraid.
"Bless bits, Ruth! It's Buck!"
He carefully scanned the ground in all directions around him. No sign of Matt or anyone else as far as the eye could see. He stepped back to the carcass. It had been there long enough that the birds had worked it over some, but so far no sign of coyotes or cougar yet. He pushed a foreleg with the toe of his boot. Stiff as a piece of wood. He stared at the other front leg, twisted in place under the big animal, reading the signs that told the story. Then he slowly lifted the familiar saddle blanket from the horse's head, instantly grimacing and looking away when he saw the bullet hole in the center of the horse's forehead. Buck's story was complete.
"Poor ol' scudder," Festus muttered to the buckskin. "You bin' a fine horse. Shore will miss bein' around 'ya."
He walked back to Ruth and stepped on, immediately picking up on Matt's gear-laden boot prints in the dust. Finding the marshal was definitely a job for a tracker now. He was alive, and he was carrying a big load. Matt had traversed the slope in a zig-zag pattern, knowing there was a place to camp by the water on the other side, but too heavily burdened to hike straight up. And Festus was reading his mind.
"Now Ruth, we're gonna make camp right where Matthew would'a, once we get down by th' crick. Yer' gonna git a big ol' drink a' cool water an' plenty a' grass." Somehow it helped to talk to the mule. "Matthew knows what he's a'doin. We're gonna find him in fine fettle."
He followed the tracks in a straight line down the other side. But as he neared the bottom, the trees by the creek bank in sight, he saw the stage approaching from the north. It was his best chance all day. He abandoned the tracks and his thoughts of a rest by the creek and pushed Ruth as hard as he could toward the stage. He had to get there before it disappeared around the bend to head on south past the shortcut. Luck with him, he reined Ruth to a stop in the center of the road, waving his arms to flag down the driver.
"Mister, I'm Deppity Festus Haggen out'a Dodge City," he called breathlessly up to the man on the box. "I'm a-lookin' fer Marshal Matthew Dillon. I found his horse back a piece, so he'd be on foot, and he'd be a'carryin' a saddle an' all his gear. Big man, real big man . . ."
The driver didn't need to let Festus go on.
"Deputy, I picked the marshal up just a little north of here four days ago on my way into WaKeeney. I hauled him up there."
The trail just got a lot warmer. Finally, a stroke of luck for Festus!
"Golly Bill, driver! Much obliged! I kin' head on inta' WaKeeney first light. Kin I git ya' ta' take a message back inta' Dodge fer me? They's folks lookin' fer th' big man."
"Sorry, Deputy. I don't go to Dodge. I'm headed for Garden City, then on into Pueblo."
Festus studied his saddle horn, then he snapped to. The driver had a schedule to keep, and this stop wasn't on it. WaKeeney would yield the rest of the pieces of the puzzle.
"Mister! When you git off yer' box in Garden City, I need ya' ta' send a tellygram ta' Doctor Adams in Dodge City. Just say th' marshal's workin' in WaKeeney. Put my name on it: Festus."
Before the man could think about it, Festus sidled Ruth next to the box and handed the silver dollar up to him. It almost seemed like more than the surprised man could process, so Festus repeated himself.
"Put my name on it, got that? My name's Festus!"
It was probably because no human being had ever flagged the driver down in the middle of nowhere to give him a silver dollar for a simple favor. He grinned and repeated the entire message to the hill man, and then said "It's Festus" twice at the end.
Festus grinned. "Like I said, much obliged! Have a safe trip! Be seein' ya' down th' trail somewheres." He waved, and stepped Ruth sideways off the old stage road to clear the way. It was going to be a good night in camp, and he'd see Matt tomorrow.
Ruth comfortably hobbled in good grass by the creek, Festus used the last of the daylight to get his fire going and bag a rabbit for supper. Fresh meat would taste good with the beans in his can; sure better than just the jerky he'd tossed in his saddle bags. He used the firelight to skin and gut the rabbit, skewered it on the spit, washed up in the creek, and sat down to enjoy a sip or two out of his flask while he pondered the day. Poor Buck. Awful about Buck! Damn, poor Matthew! He knew how much his boss thought of that horse. But such good news that Matthew had made it just fine to WaKeeney. Life on the prairie. Some days were all over the place like that.
"Hello the camp! Hello there, ridin' in!" The man's greeting was partially muffled by Ruth's loud braying in return greeting.
Could it be? No, couldn't be. But it was that booming voice! Festus froze in place and put his hand on his pistol.
"Hello the camp!"
Festus stood and stepped away from the firelight, just in case. But there was no mistaking that deep voice the second time.
"Matthew?"
"Festus? Festus Haggen? I'd recognize that darned mule anywhere!" Matt rode right into the camp and stepped down. Festus pumped his boss's hand in a shoulder-pounding shake, so glad to see the man he'd been sent to find.
"Matthew, yer' a sight fer sore eyeballs!" He kept pumping Matt's hand, and the big man allowed it. It made him laugh.
"Good, Festus! Good! I see you found my cold camp from the other day."
Finally, Festus let go his hand. "Oh fiddle, it warn't no hard deal a'tall. You was leavin' a real good trail and 'sides, this'd a' been where I'd a' picked ta' bed down anyway, what with th' tree stand here . . ."
Grateful as he was to see Festus, it was time to cut his tirade off.
"So, you're out lookin' for me, are you?"
"Waaal, shore, I'd be un-truthin' if'n I said me n' ol Ruth was jes' out fer a ride. See, Miss Kitty and Doc an' even ol' Frankie done sent me ta' . . ."
Matt put his hand on Festus's shoulder.
"Thanks, Festus," he said softly. He knew. He knew Festus had volunteered to ride all the way to WaKeeney and would have gone on all the way to the US border, if necessary, to find him.
"Ya' gotcha' a new ride there, Matthew."
"Yeah. Let me get him taken care of. I've got plenty of grub in my bags."
"Yep. An' I got this here cottontail ta' share with 'ya. Why, we'll be back in Dodge tomorrow n' we kin' light up th' Long Branch with tales o' th' trail!"
XOXOXO
"You buy this here gildin', didja Matthew?" Festus gestured toward the sorrel gelding Matt was riding as they headed south toward Dodge in the fresh morning light. Only 40 miles to go. The horse was solid and quiet, but he didn't look nearly big enough to carry Matt at any kind of speed or distance.
"Yeah."
"Fer a special reason, I reckon."
"Yeah. I needed a ride home. Stage to Dodge only goes through Hays or Garden City, would have been three more wasted days."
"I found Buck."
"Yeah."
"Matthew, yer' gonna find 'ya another big ol' gildin' jes' like what yer' wantin, yer' jes' gonna have ta' hunt a bit."
"Yeah."
Festus had been able to key off Matt's mood for so many years it had become a sixth sense. They could talk about horses after they got settled in Dodge. For now, it was time to change the subject.
"Thet deal up thar with th' railroad, Matthew. It was more arguin' about land rights an' such?"
"Yeah."
"An' they needed a marshal ta' sort it out."
"Yeah."
Twenty miles from Dodge, the two picked up Blodgett Creek, the last of their water for the trip. Matt studied the sorrel gelding's neck down in front of him, remembering all too well that this spot had been Buck's last drink. When the horse was finished drinking, Matt reined him up onto the bank.
"Festus, I've got plenty of jerky in my bags. I'd like to give this horse a rest, then we'll head on into Dodge. Can I buy your lunch?"
Festus smiled. "Matthew, I'll try for a fish or two. Might even find a perch if'n I get lucky. Taste real good with th' trail jerky."
Matt watched his friend amble off to the creek bank with his makeshift pole, the hook baited with nothing but jerky. By the time he got a decent fire going, Festus was back beside him with two big perch. The hill man was amazing.
"You don't waste any time!"
"Waaal, us Haggens knows th' secrets ta' fishin, Matthew! My great uncle Cloris Haggen done taught me th' best secret places ta' find these here perchies . . ."
"Wait, Festus." Matt interrupted. "You had an UNCLE named CLORIS?"
"Oh yeah!" Festus waved his arms excitedly. "Uncle Cloris was the . . ."
Matt grinned. "Let me get a spit made. You can tell me all about Uncle Cloris while we eat those beauties."
While they feasted on bites of fish and jerky, Festus opened up. He knew it was Matt's favorite kind of lunch in his favorite kind of place. It always put both of them at peace with the world.
"Matthew, how's come th' railroad is so much better'n th' stage?"
"Well, let me think about that, Festus. Lots of reasons. Power and speed, for starters. The railroad can move heavy loads like cattle and wood and even coal. The stage can't do any of that. It can only move people."
Festus thought a minute. "An' mail an' treasure boxes full a' gold an' money an' such."
"Sure. But the stage is easy to rob. The mail and the treasure boxes are always at risk. You ever try to stop a train?"
"Golly Bill! I cut'nt never stop no train!"
"Well, there's your first answer."
"Why cut'nt them boys make 'em a train what cud go cross country without all them tracks, jes' like a stage?"
"Maybe they could. But then the train would be as slow as the stage. The tracks let trains go fast pulling big loads because there's no friction on the wheels."
"What n' blue blazes?"
Matt realized he'd lost Festus. "Friction is what happens when the wheels meet the ground. Smooth wheels on smooth tracks have less friction than wood wheels on rough ground. You've seen Quint put metal rims on wood wheels. That stops part of the friction. That's how the train guys figured it out. But the wagon and the stage still have to go over all sorts of horrible rough ground. So they figured out tracks so they wouldn't get stuck."
"Friction." Festus looked at Matt pensively. "They's some smart yayhoos workin' on stuff."
"They're engineers, Festus. They're paid to figure things out."
"Golly Bill, an' then they git ta' drive th' train!"
By now a self-appointed railroad expert, Festus wore a big grin. Matt decided that was enough education for the day.
"What do you say we head on home? Lookin' forward to my own bed tonight."
"Matthew, kin I ask ya' jes' one more thing?" All prepared for another railroad question, Matt took a deep breath.
"Sure, Festus."
"Now if'n this here's too personal an' all, you jes' shut me right up cuz I don't never want ta' . . ."
"Go ahead, Festus. This is a good place for personal stuff."
"Waaal, seein' as how Miss Kitty is my favorite shemayle anywheres in th' world, you gotta' know I care about her a lot."
"I know you do, Festus."
"Cud it maybe be she's gonna have a young un'? Cuz ya' see, I bin' a-studyin' on it a lot. She's bin' lookin' all soulsome n' beautiful lately an' now she's got ta' wearin' a momma dress."
"A momma dress, huh?" Matt was having a hard time keeping a straight face.
"Waaal, it's awful purdy jes' like her. An' I know you ain't seen it yet cuz' a' you bein' up ta' WaKeeney an' all, but I was jes' wonderin . . ."
"Yeah, Festus." A big smile on his face, Matt looked straight at his friend. "Yeah, she IS gonna have a little one. Won't be till late this winter, but yeah Festus, we have a baby on the way."
"Waaal, I'll be a son of a ring-tailed badger! You ol' scudder! An' ya' got Dooley puttin' that new bedroom on the house, too!" Festus had the biggest grin on his face Matt had ever seen. "You reckon you an' her'd let that little scamp call me Uncle Festus?"
Matt's eyes sparkled with his smile. "You've got my word on that, Uncle Festus!"
XOXOXO
Matt got the sorrel settled into a stall, fed and watered him, and headed for the house. He pegged his hat and his gun belt and followed his ears to the sound of the soft humming in the water closet.
"Hello, beautiful wife!" He knelt next to the steaming tub and kissed her.
"Oh, my cowboy! Welcome home!" She pulled his face down into her neck and nuzzled in his curls. "God, how I missed you! It was so long!"
"Yeah. Too long." He took the sponge from her hand and started stroking her body with it. After all the trail talk about the baby, he spent extra time gently massaging her belly. It was time to be happy again. His ministrations put Kitty in a trance. Then he moved the sponge lower, between her legs.
"You haven't forgotten, have you? Doc said it was okay."
She opened her eyes and smiled. "More than okay. If you'll dry me, I'll see if I remember how." She had that gleam in her eye that she only shared with him.
Effortlessly, he lifted her out of the tub onto a towel and began drying.
"I should hop in there while it's still hot.
"Get those clothes off, big boy! My turn to wash you."
She knelt next to the tub on the large pile of abandoned cowboy clothes, gave his head a quick dunk, and soaped him all over. It was especially delightful working her fingers through his hair: it was starting to get too long, just the way she liked it. But an ulterior motive at hand, she worked quickly at the bath, giving him another loving dunk when she was finished. He stepped out to their favorite foreplay, drying himself slowly above the waist, giving her extra time to work on all his lower parts.
She giggled at the sight of him.
"Can you walk to the bedroom all manly like that?"
"Always have. Maybe you'll let me prove it?"
He scooped her up in his arms and carried her the short distance, setting her gently down on her back on the cool sheets. True to his word, his manhood remained standing at attention. He wanted his lady. He rolled in next to her, relishing the anticipation.
"You were humming in the tub."
"Mmmm Hmmm. Doc thinks maybe babies can hear you."
He laughed. "Maybe I'd better be careful what I say while I'm doing this."
She gave him a gentle tickle. "Silly man! Here, I'll start: I thought I had you nice and dry, but I see you're all gooey again already."
He stroked her belly gently, then eased down and probed her with two eager fingers.
"You're just as wet, Mrs. Dillon. Feels like a two-way deal to me."
She wiggled away from him and pounced down onto his manhood, taking the tip of him into her mouth, circling, licking and stroking with her tongue.
"Honey's all gone." She looked up at him and smiled.
He grabbed her arms and drew her up onto him for a deep kiss, his sex throbbing against her belly.
"I'm making more. You feel that?"
"Mmmm." She raised up enough to suckle his nipples, sneaking a peek down to what she wanted. He was already coated again.
"Caught ya' lookin," he smiled. He drew her up for another kiss.
She knelt up over him, took him gently in her hand and rubbed him on her. It took him only seconds to moan softly.
"Put me where I belong, Kitten. Put me where I need to be! You're so warm, so wet, so AHHHH," he groaned when she complied. They eased together effortlessly in the dance, a rush of warmth enveloping them both. He stroked slowly, gently, then waited.
"It's been too long. I gotta be careful here or I can't stop."
"Nothing to worry about," she teased. "I'm already pregnant, remember?"
"You remember those days?"
"Yeah. The dreaded 'careful' days. How could I forget?"
"Never again, sweetheart." He stroked as long as he dared, then stopped again.
"Matt, please! Please don't stop! Don't make me beg!"
So, he didn't. His body moved eagerly from steady, rhythmic thrusts to the inevitable short ones that signaled the end nearing. He watched her eyes close, felt her insides throb and squeeze him repeatedly, then pulled her down onto his chest, gritted his teeth, and willingly gave up all the love he had to give in return. They both went quiet, relishing the feeling of being joined.
"Kit." He whispered into her neck. "Do you know how much I love coming home to you?"
"Mmmm Hmmm. You just showed me."
He raised up just enough that he could shower her neck, then her ears, then her face with gentle kisses. The third time he crossed from one side to the other, she caught his lips on hers and gave him a deep kiss.
He raised up on his forearms, inevitably sliding away when he did. But there was no stopping. He started in with the kisses again all over her breasts, taking one nipple, then the other, ever so gently into his mouth for a suckle. Her feet hadn't stopped moving, not even for an instant. She drew her legs up around him in a playful effort to keep him over her.
"You're a firecracker tonight!"
"Ready for a slow dance now."
"Mrs. Mother-To-Be, it's still that good for you? You want me that much?"
Now it was Kitty's turn to work on her lover. She nuzzled into his chest with kisses, then circled his nipples with the lightest of fingertips.
"Ready any time you are, Cowboy," she teased.
tbc