Chapter 2

Kitty looked up from the table where she was setting out fresh bottles of whiskey and clean glasses for the five good natured cowboys who were ribbing each other and enjoying a low stakes poker game. She carefully gathered up the dirty ones while trying not to disturb their play. This group came to the Long Branch on a fairly regular basis and she liked to see them here. They rarely caused trouble and consumed and paid for a good amount of alcohol. Apart from the business aspect, they were fun to be around.

The redheaded saloon owner was always able to tell when Matt Dillon was standing there looking over the batwing doors even if she wasn't facing in that direction at the time. She knew he was there now and turned to smile at him. Although his facial expression didn't change, she was sure he'd seen her. He usually managed to find her even if the room was crowded and full of cigar smoke. Kitty couldn't help but watch as those long legs of his carried him to the bar, neither could she stop herself from walking over to join him.

"Busy day Matt?" she asked while signaling Clem to bring the marshal a beer.

Dillon was leaning his tall frame against the bar, his upper body slightly turned so he could keep an eye on the room and still manage to look at her. She stood close to him hoping he'd heard her remark clearly, but the marshal had questions of his own.

"Kitty, have you seen anyone around here who you don't recognize or who hasn't been in town in a while? Might have come in here real early this morning, say around breakfast time or before?"

She thought carefully for a minute. "I can't say I've seen anyone like that, but you know I'm not usually up that early."

He leaned a little closer so that his words would only be heard by her. "I understand that," he said "and if I had my way you wouldn't be up early any morning." He stepped back a little, and became more serious. "I have to go see Doc now. He's got a patient with a bullet wound up in his office. I'll be back later."

Kitty glanced behind her to make sure no one was listening, "I'm gonna hold you to that promise about early mornings, Cowboy."

The beer mug was still half full when he set it back on the counter and left. How typical of Matt Dillon, she thought. Something was bothering him. He wouldn't speak about it but neither would he let it go until he had answers. Sometimes it was exasperating. She often tried to imagine how it would be to have a man who had time to stop by and talk for more than a few brief sentences before leaving again. It used to make her wonder why she ever decided to stay in Dodge in the first place, but by now she'd grown to accept that it was his way of dealing with a job he both loved and hated at the same time.

Clem interrupted her thoughts. "Miss Kitty, would you take these drinks to the Faro table please. Agnes hasn't come in yet."

"Thanks Clem. Yes I forgot to tell you. She said she'd be a little late. No problem. We shouldn't be too busy until after dark."

()()()

Matt climbed the stairs to Doc's office. He didn't bother to knock because through the window he saw his friend sitting alone at the roll top desk and reading a journal.

Over the last ten years the two men had built a unique relationship. Early on, Dillon developed a deep sense of respect for the physician, but at the same time he tried to stay out of his way. He was a private man and disliked probing questions that he found difficult to answer. Adams seemed very adept at finding the memories he'd rather bury deep inside himself. The marshal had experienced good times in his life, but also many bad ones and he didn't like to talk about those. Admittedly he'd made a few less than admirable decisions along the way, but he'd sworn an oath and pinned on a badge. Since then he'd had one single focus. Oh, he had regrets for sure, but he understood and accepted the skills and responsibilities that life had thrust upon him. He just didn't like to talk about them.

Adams too had had his problems when the new young marshal first arrived in town. A young man with a shiny star and a gun, full of misplaced pride and self assurance. As time went on he began to understand that it wasn't pride that drove the man. There was something else inside him that made him stand up for the farmer, the rancher and even the little nester trying to eke out a way to feed his family. He discovered that Matt Dillon was unable to stand by idly and watch a woman being viciously abused by her husband, or even a child being excessively and unnecessarily beaten by a parent. If there was a legal way he could put a stop to any of it he would, regardless of threats to his own safety. Doc himself had been witness to it many times. It had taken a while but gradually he began to understand this newcomer to Dodge City. He was no ordinary lawman. He was a man of principles and dedication who took his oath to heart. It was these things that drove the man inside Matthew Dillon.

Matt entered the back room where Doc kept his more seriously ill or injured patients. The physician's description of the woman lying there was pretty accurate. She wasn't what would be called beautiful but her face showed determination even though at present a generalized pallor replaced any natural coloring. He could tell from her skin that she'd led a life outdoors, dominated by the elements. She was younger than he was - by about five years at least, he thought, although with a woman it was sometimes hard to tell.

"Ma'am?" He decided to break the silence and see if she was awake enough to hear him. He was rewarded when her eyes opened hesitantly and she stared at him but didn't speak.

"Marshal Dillon, Ma'am." he introduced himself.

She smiled weakly "Miranda...Miller. I...I'm..." her voice trailed off and her eyes closed briefly. Matt looked around the room which he knew only too well. He hated to think of how many times he'd been the one lying in that bed. There was a chair next to the table by the window and he moved it closer to Doc's latest patient so that he could be at her level.

"Can you tell me what happened to you, Miss Miller?"

As she lay there looking at him he couldn't help but notice her amber colored eyes.

"What is it you want to know?"

"Doc showed me a bullet he removed from your back. It's part of my job to investigate any shooting, whether it be accidental or intended."

She thought for a moment. "This one was definitely intended." Her voice was soft. No, he thought, not soft and gentle as a woman's voice, but weak because she was exhausted. He could tell that under better circumstances her voice could have been forceful and commanding. People would pay attention when she spoke to them.

This woman had a strength about her that made him stop and ask himself if he should be questioning her about something she'd apparently tried hard to hide away from public view, but he had to know. He hesitated, then cleared his throat before continuing.

"Er… Doc showed me a badge he found in your pocket."

She moved a little as if trying to get into a more comfortable position.

"You wear a badge don't you, Marshal?" She took several breaths before continuing. "I wear one for the same reason."

The door opened and Doc entered. He took one look at his patient then turned to his friend. "That's enough for now, Matt. She doesn't need you harassing her." He went to the bedside and placing fingers around her wrist checked his patient's pulse. It was remarkably steady considering the amount of blood she'd lost.

"You can come back tomorrow morning," he said in a gentler voice.

Matt didn't feel like arguing, in fact he had plenty to think about already, as well as a telegram or two to send. Marshal Miranda Miller, if that's who she was claiming to be, would certainly give him something to think about. He retrieved his Stetson from the table by the window and placed it on his head.

"Miss Miller," he politely acknowledged as he tipped his hat before leaving the room. He'd definitely return tomorrow morning.

()()()

Kitty was still gliding between tables in Long Branch while he watched her many hours later. He marveled at the ease with which she could talk and flirt with the customers and at the same time remain in control of any situation. He knew from personal experience that she was skilled at handling drunks and crooked dealers alike without ever losing her dignity as a woman. Most of the customers respected her for that and only rarely did things get out of control.

He noticed that Agnes was also serving tables now. She was a young woman who'd arrived in town about a month ago. Despite her young age - Matt figured she was no more than eighteen and probably a little younger - Kitty had given her a job. "Better she be here in the Long Branch than working at the Texas Trail," she'd told him. He watched as Kitty approached her and the two women exchanged a few words, then the owner of the saloon turned away and walked towards him.

"Let's go outside for a minute, Matt. I need a breath of fresh air - or at least as fresh as the air gets in Dodge."

They stood together by one of the poles supporting the roof covering the boardwalk. She spoke quietly so that her voice didn't travel beyond his ears. "There was someone new in town very early this morning, but according to Agnes it wasn't a man. It was a young woman riding a strong looking dark bay horse with a white star on its forehead. Agnes noticed her because the animal looked several sizes too big for the rider.

"Agnes seems very observant for such a young woman."

Kitty smiled. "Not all young ladies grow up in the comforts of city life Matt. Agnes's father owns a big ranch over in Missouri so she grew up around horses and cattle and also a bunch of cowboys. She came west to see more of the world before settling down and raising a brood of youngsters."

"Strange she should end up in Dodge City." Matt commented.

"So it's alright for a young man to drift around - but not for a young woman?"

"You know I didn't mean it like that, Kitty!"

She knew by the smile in his eyes that he was teasing her.

"There's more if you want to hear it."

He looked around then moved a little close. For a moment she hoped he might put his arm around her - but knew better than to even think that. Instead he put his mouth closer to her ear.

"Tell me," he whispered.

Kitty thought of several comments she could make but decided that right now he needed information.

"Agnes told me she was in Jonas' Mercantile a short while after seeing the horse and rider. The same woman came in and bought a bunch of supplies as if she was camping out somewhere not too far away. She said the woman was quite attractive but was trying to hide that fact by wearing a man's shirt and pants that were a little too big for her. "

Kitty paused.

"Anything else?" he prompted

"She said something about the woman having long blond hair which had been pushed up inside an old weatherbeaten hat, as if she were trying to hide it. Agnes tried to talk to her but the woman was in a hurry, grabbed her supplies and left.

"Do you think Agnes can remember anything else about the woman if I talk to her?"

"I don't know, Matt. You can try asking her later." Kitty stopped for a moment as if suddenly remembering something. It was already dark and as she looked up in the dim light of the street lamps it seemed to him as if her face shone out against the darkness that was enveloping everything else.

"There was one more thing she said. As the woman was paying for her supplies she pulled money from the pocket of her pants and something metallic fell out with the notes. She retrieved it quickly, hiding it in her hand and hurriedly pushed it back where it had come from. Agnes was pretty sure that she was the only one who saw it - Jonas was too busy adding up the bill."

"Could she tell what it was?"

"She wasn't sure Matt, because she barely got a brief glimpse but the only time she'd seen anything about the same size and shape was the badge you wear on your shirt."

Matt was thoughtful for a moment. He looked at Kitty and wished he could take her hands and hold her but he couldn't allow himself to do that on Front Street with the gas lamps throwing a cone of hazy yellow light around them both.

"Tell her that what she saw could be very helpful, but please don't talk about it with anyone else right now. If she remembers anything more, she should come and talk to me."

"I think she's a little shy of talking to the big United States Marshal, but I'll tell her anyway."

He stopped to surreptitiously take hold of the saloon owner's right hand where it was hidden behind the pole where they were standing. "I'll see you later," he whispered, squeezing her fingers gently before turning and quietly walking off towards the jail.

TBC