DERAILED: CHAPTER 9

He'd ridden over an hour when Frank finally spotted the company wagon. Bing Ross was under the canopy, and just as Elsie had hinted, he had his feet propped up, nursing a bottle of whiskey and flipping solitaire cards.

"Howdy. You Mister Ross?"

Ross looked Frank up and down, then pulled his feet off the table. The guy looked tough as nails. Maybe even competition.

"Who's askin?"

"Name's Reardon. Frank Reardon. I'm here to take your job."

Bing Ross slid his chair back and stood to face Frank, the fingers on his gun hand twitching.

"My job ain't up for grabs."

Frank's confident grin slid across his face, defusing the threat that "Mister Ross" had taken so seriously.

"Then hire me on. I'm lookin' for guard work. I hear you're short-handed."

"You gotta see Mister Duncan on that."

"All right. Where do I find him?"

"He ain't here."

Frank's grin was back. "Didn't figure he was, what with you sittin' on your ass on company time."

"You know Mister Duncan?"

"Nope. But I know who George Powers is if that helps me any."

"Hell, yes that helps!" A broad grin crept over Ross's face. "Where do you know George from?

"Dodge City. He was there same time I was travelin' through. He was after the marshal's wife on some failed business deal."

"Mister Frank, you 'n me need to talk."

"You're the one sayin' it."

"You know that marshal down there?"

"Everybody knows Dillon. Even up here they know Dillon."

"Yeah, but YOU?"

"Can't say as I do. Got kinda crosswise with him down there right after I quit the Santa Fe. He ran George out of town, then he ran me out."

Ross's head was spinning. If this Reardon guy was any good, this might be the extra guy George Powers had hoped to find. And he'd get credit for finding him.

"Look. Mister Duncan won't be around for a while but George is due back in a couple weeks. He can hire you. If you can wait that long to get some money, I'll take you on trial right now. Sounds like you know the job if you worked for the Santa Fe. We're short-handed since that big-ass marshal came up here and stirred the pot. George has plenty of money, he'll get you paid. Let's go out on the line and plink some cans."

"Sounds good." It was exactly what Elsie had told him, and it all fit. This Ross guy was no more a railroad guard than Ruth the mule. He was indeed a hired gun and he was looking for another hired gun. Ross had his own thoughts playing in his head. Reardon had guard experience with the other railroad. How easy it would be to disguise him as a guard, pay him as a guard, then use him in George's little plan.

The interview was exactly what Frank expected it to be. Bing Ross set up targets and challenged him to beat him. After Frank beat him six for six they reloaded and Frank let Ross win a couple to keep him in the game before he went right back to proving his point. It was the same result when they tossed targets: Frank hit even a lazy toss five times to Ross's three or four. The gunman never asked a single question about guarding or about Frank's experience on the railroad. In fact, all he wanted to hear about was Dillon.

When Ross called it done, they holstered their .45's.

"You can work here out of the wagon till George gets back. You an' me can get to know each other, Mister Frank."

It was more nonsense. The railroad obviously needed guards out on the west line and hanging around close to the schooner wagon with George Powers' hired bodyguard made no sense. It was just more fuel for Frank's fire.

"Sure."

"Let's go sit down and talk." Maybe the interview was coming?

Ross poured a whiskey for each of them and motioned Frank to take the more comfortable seat of the two.

"So, tell me more about Dillon. How'd you get crosswise with him?"

Nope. No interview. He was playing right into Frank's hands.

"That's kind of personal."

"Try me. You're lookin' for work, remember?"

Frank took a big gulp of his whiskey for emphasis. "He caught me with his wife. I went after her for a whole different reason than George did."

Ross grinned, then blew a whistle through his teeth. "You got guts, Mister Frank. I hear he's nothin' to mess with."

"I like my pleasures."

"You're mighty fast with a gun. Why didn't you just take him?"

"Can't shoot a United States marshal in front of witnesses, Ross. You know that. I'd hang for sure. No woman is worth that." Frank rolled his glass in his fingers, studying the amber liquid. "She's sure one to take a chance for," he said softly. Then his famous grin: "Now, if some other guy was to take Dillon out, I'd go right back down there and get her. Maybe next time he heads up here to cause trouble, huh?"

Bing Ross grinned right back. "Maybe."

"Where do you stay in WaKeeney?"

"Robert's. Powers and Mr. Duncan always do, too."

"Good. I've got a room there," Frank replied. "Cause I'll be damned if I'm sleeping out here in this wagon. Like I said, I like my pleasures. I'll see you around tonight then."

XOXOXO

"That's the guy right there!" Dooley was keyed up, pointing at a cowboy walking out of the Long Branch just before closing.

"You're sure."

"Marshal, that's the guy that gave me Mrs. Dillon's letter. I'm sure."

Matt kicked his long legs into high gear to cross Front Street. In six huge strides he was grabbing the reins of the cowboy's horse as he mounted to leave. The surprised man looked down at him.

"United States marshal, Mister. Hold it right there."

"Yes Sir!"

Dooley had been right. The guy looked like a cowboy and nothing more. He had no fight in him, and nothing but fear of the law on his face.

"You've been mailing and delivering letters around town. Who are you?"

The young man swallowed hard. "Name's Duncan Avery. I ride for the 2U outfit. I'm just a cowboy, Marshal."

"And you're a mailman in your spare time?" Matt glowered at him. "Get down off that horse, Avery!"

Immediately, their roles were reversed. Instead of sitting on his horse looking down at the marshal, Avery was now looking up at the biggest man he'd ever seen. He swallowed hard again. Matt got in his face.

"Who you delivering letters for?"

"I don't want no trouble, Marshal. Didn't think I was doin' anything wrong. Some guy paid me to deliver those. Never said his name, just handed me four silver dollars and told me what to do. Had me mail three of 'em and deliver one to some lady's house up town. It was just real easy money, Marshal."

"No idea who he was?"

"No Sir! And that's the honest truth! It was a couple days ago. He said he had to leave town that morning and couldn't do it himself. Sure has made my time in Dodge better, what with havin' that money. Got me plenty to drink, and even a date with a pretty lady over at the Oasis the other night."

Matt took his hand off the horse's reins, thanked the young man, and let him go. This was nothing more than a scared kid who trailed steers for a meager living. Powers' partner had left town. But left to go where? WaKeeney? Sure as hell, if that's where the guy went, Frank Reardon was going to find him. Maybe Denver? He could ask Charlie Cole for more help. It gave him a helpless feeling. Frank always called him "big marshal man." Yeah, right. Here he was in Dodge with his friends out doing his work. His new life, he reminded himself. There was nothing left to do at this late hour but go home.

So he did.

It was after midnight, but his best friend was waiting up for him, the lantern glowing low in the bedroom, her nose buried in a book. She laid it on her chest and pulled him in for a kiss.

"Whatcha' readin', beautiful?"

She held the cover up so he could see it.

"Surviving Motherhood? Wow, Kit. You're not scared, are you?" His concern was genuine, his voice filled with alarm.

She laughed. "No, it's nothing like that! It's full of good information about just what we both want to know. How to have your first baby and still share a wonderful life with your husband. Or your wife, if you'd care to read it!"

"Hummph. Not my kind of reading. We'll figure that out when the time comes."

"It's late. Why don't you crawl in here with me. Kinda' lonesome here with just this book."

That was more like the offer he preferred. She put the book on the nightstand and watched him undress. It was delicious eye candy. As each layer came off, the candy wrapper peeled back. There'd been a passage in the book about that part. About remembering to study your lover's body before any touching. To study the body that had ignited the passion. To study again. To kindle the fire! She smiled as she did. Every part of him was beautiful! His shirt off, she traced his broad shoulders, then his arms, with her eyes. She'd always enjoyed tracing those muscles with her fingers, and she would soon. But for now, the looking was sure building a fire! She watched him pull his gun belt off and hang it on the bedpost. Right there, waiting to protect her and their unborn child. Then his belt came off. He unbuttoned his pants and kicked them off. And there, just for her, was the best part! His drawers outlined every part of his long, perfectly chiseled thighs. She glanced up at his chest again, ignoring the old scars and marveling at its rugged beauty. It was a brief glance, and her eyes fell back onto his thighs. His manhood was comfortably tucked between those thighs under that thin fabric. Each detail was outlined perfectly, leaving nothing to her imagination. Was her mouth watering? She swallowed carefully just in case. She could feel him with her eyes. She thought about asking him to wait, to leave that underwear on for just a few minutes so she could once again study that outline. But it was late, and she was ready to touch him. And besides, he was staring right back at her!

He sat down next to her. His eyes were full of her breasts in the lacy chemise.

"You're maybe a little bigger." He hadn't planned it that way, it just slipped out. Then again, he hadn't read the book.

"What?"

"You, here." He'd often struggled with words about her pregnancy, so he touched her breast softly.

She smiled. "You're not supposed to be able to see that for another month or so."

"Kitten," he kept up with the touch, moving to the other breast. "I know every curve of your body. It's etched permanently in my brain. You're maybe a little bigger here. And it's exciting."

"You scared?" She asked.

"Maybe a little."

"Did you think it'd be like this?"

"Maybe a little."

"Roll in here with me Cowboy."

"Bottoms off?"

"Bottoms off please!"

He did her bidding, then slid under the covers next to her, holding her close.

"I'm scared about when I should stop this, Kit."

"I wait up for you to come home, just for this."

"But there'll be a time . . ."

She put her finger on his lips to silence him.

"It's not that time yet, Matt."

"Frank's up in WaKeeney doing my work. Maybe it's some guy from Denver that dumped the buggy. I should be out there."

"This was all the plan, remember? Remember how we talked in Denver? Remember how you asked me to stop working the floor? What about how I hired Lily so I'd only have to work days? Remember how Doc took me to Kansas City? Remember how hard you worked to get Frank here, and how special he is to you? It's all coming together, Matt. These people are our friends. What we decided together to do is working out. You want to go back now?"

He didn't answer her, probably because he was distracted.

"Your feet are moving."

"Just anticipating."

"Love you, Kitten. How could I ever forget all that?"

"Don't be scared."

God, how he loved this woman! He rubbed her butt, pulling her as close as he dared.

"It's the part I told you about being somebody's Pa, Kit. You can go back to anywhere anytime you want, but you can't ever go back from being somebody's Pa!"

She smiled and held him as close as she could. As if she could go back from being somebody's mother! There'd been a chapter in the book about that. About the first child, and how frightening the changes in the parents' lives could be. So far, she'd gotten past it. But it was hitting Matt hard, just like the book said it would. Thankfully, their closeness and the rubbing calmed him. Doc, Frank, Charlie, Lily, all of them forgotten for the moment, his body responded.

He was nuzzling in her neck, growing firm against her, kisses between his words. "Now and forever!"

She took his face gently in her hands and guided him to her lips. Hungry lips! Then she released him to explore her mouth while those same hands moved down along his hips to find his hot flesh. She opened her legs and rubbed him at her entrance, inviting, asking, and then finally pleading.

"Matt, please!"

It was more than he could stand. He was beyond panting now. He'd planned to make her wait, to savor, to anticipate, but why?

"Right now?"

"Please!"

The little book had been graphic to a point, but nothing like this. This was live, real, urgent beyond any description. She guided him perfectly and released him to stroke, their lubrication all mixed together to provide more pleasure than she could stand. She buried her fingers in his butt cheeks, begging him for more with each push. He didn't stand a chance. She was writhing on him, her feet peddling, her hips gyrating and twisting, working to find that perfect spot.

"Ohhhh, Matt!" It was all she had time to whisper as the thrill suddenly went racing through her entire body. That body had taken control, and it was using him. Much too quickly everything stopped for her. She was throbbing, squeezing him, gone in a flash of bright lights, oblivious to the lover she'd left completely behind in her rush.

"Damn!" She said as she started to catch her breath. Now she could feel him again, buried inside her, unmoving.

"Damn!" I'm so sorry, Sweetie! That just happened. I didn't . . ."

Now it was his turn to take one finger to her lips to silence her.

"That was absolutely gorgeous! Don't you dare be sorry! You make me feel like the man of all men when you do that!"

"I can't last like I could before I got pregnant. Can you tell that?"

"Yes. It's beautiful."

"You watched me."

"I did. It's such a private thing. You're my wife, remember?"

"I want to watch YOU!"

He responded without words, moving his body in a gentle rhythm inside her. She rocked with him, allowing his passion to build slowly. It was his turn to pleasure himself at his own pace, buried inside the one he loved. He stopped briefly, covered her neck with kisses, then resumed the dance. She followed his every move. It was faster now, and maybe he wouldn't be able to stop again. He tried. He paused just long enough to bury his face in her ear so she could enjoy everything he was saying. He'd intended to say something, but only guttural sounds and grunts were coming out. Faster again now, and there wouldn't be more stopping. Passion was his master, Kitty his mistress. She was watching him, relishing what he was doing with her.

Suddenly, Matt's world shifted into delightful mindlessness and with a final, hard thrust, he mumbled her name as his body stiffened at that point where there was no possibility of going back. He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes in an explosive orgasm, then strained hopelessly three more times. Unable to hold himself up any longer, he collapsed on top of her. He drew as many deep breaths as he dared, then quickly remembered that this was one thing he intended to change. Didn't matter what Kitty said, he was not going to leave all his weight on her anymore, and he rolled off onto his side. He got no objections. It gave him the perfect opportunity to cover her ear and then her neck with gentle kisses. She rolled to face him and kissed him softly the way only a completely satisfied lover would. If life could be perfect, this was it.

tbc