FULL HOUSE: CHAPTER 13

Promptly at five o'clock, Tripp Townsend put the chain on the door and tacked the sign up in front of the Blackstone. He, Matt, Gabs and Ply quietly shook hands signifying the end of their day from hell. Gabbert and Watson treated themselves to a carriage for the mile long trip to the depot: the depot that shared the same tracks with the warehouse where Honey Budd's empire had come to an end.

Matt decided to walk by himself so he could clear his head. In this bustling city, it was as close as he could come to riding slowly across the prairie on Buck. There'd be plenty of time for reflection with the other guys at Price's breakfast meeting. Six days ago he'd hit town with wife in tow, prepared to sit through a few days of boring meetings and ready to enjoy each night escorting her through Chicago before sleeping in her arms. In those six days he'd formed a bond that would last a lifetime with three other U.S. marshals, and together they'd taken down the largest liquor smuggling operation the country had ever known. The whole thing seemed surreal. Charlie Cole's prophecy had come to pass. The United States Marshals Service had changed. He and his partners had written another chapter here in Chicago, a chapter that would be studied until it was time for marshals better than them to write the next one, bigger than anything that had gone before. The job he'd always done in Dodge had changed. One more year and he could retire. He was one of nineteen elite in the country, but next year there'd be two dozen or more. Kitty had been right as usual. It was time to stop thinking about marshaling and plan the rest of his life. It was time to find a better place than the Long Branch to raise Sara. But maybe what he owed his family was a better place than Dodge. Dodge: the place he loved, the friends he loved, the place where he'd started his family. The thought of ever leaving it tied his stomach in a knot.

The front desk clerk at the Palmer House didn't seem a bit surprised when he walked in to get his key. Ply and Gabs had already checked in, and they'd looked as trail weary as he did.

"Welcome to the Palmer House, Marshal Diamond. Mrs. Diamond is already upstairs, and I'll send hot water up for you right away." He'd no doubt already gotten a whiff of Gabs and Ply, and Matt knew his bay rum had long ago worn off.

"Much obliged. And the best restaurant for me and my wife tonight?"

"Right here at the hotel, Marshal. The Cattlemen's, right across the lobby," he pointed to the corner. Just sign for anything while you're here. Mr. Price takes care of it all."

Griffith Price, his new boss from Congress. The man who wore nothing but the finest and always had his secretary at his side. How could he know anything about what a U.S. marshal really did for a living? Somehow, it didn't seem to matter anymore. Animosity had faded long ago, replaced by respect. He remembered the days when the War Department ran the show, forgot to make payroll, and tried to challenge everything he did. This boss was different. Everything was different. With renewed energy, he loped up the stairs to the third floor. No more knocks, no more codes, he turned his key in the lock and let himself in. The most beautiful woman in Chicago rushed into his arms. He wanted her that minute, as he held her there. Wanted to just carry her to the bed and satisfy the longing he'd had for days. Wanted to unbutton her dress and run his hands down that creamy soft skin on the insides of her thighs. Wanted to re-claim her as his for all time. His mind meddled with his body as he felt himself stirring against her. If he never got out of her embrace, his day would be complete.

"Bell staff! Hot water!" Came the rap on the door. Honestly, he'd completely forgotten about the bath. Kitty would have let him take her just as he was. What an amazing woman. He didn't care about the smell anymore. Didn't care that he'd answered the door half hard, or even that he sported a U.S. Marshal's badge on his dirt-smudged chest. It was time to be shed of three days of grime and 'Marshal Diamond' right along with it. Six years ago this night he and Kitty were in bed in Denver, feasting on each others' bodies for the first time as man and wife.

He tipped the men generously and locked the door behind them, then collapsed wearily on the bed. Two staccato snores escaped his lips, but he revived immediately when he felt her struggling to tug his boots off. The very least he owed her on this special night was a clean husband.

"Feet are swollen, Kit," he mumbled as he sat up, aware of how his right leg ached. "You'll never get 'em off. Let me." He peeled both boots and the rest of his clothes off in record time, knowing the only way to the bed where he wanted to be was by way of the tub. Kitty pushed everything into a pile in the corner with her foot, then dutifully followed him into the water closet.

"You get in there and start soaking some of the stockyards off that handsome body. I'll do the washing, mister!" She rolled up her sleeves, then took sponge and soap in hand like a teacher with study guide and chalk at a blackboard. He wasn't about to argue. There was something about the long, soft strokes from those delicate hands, something about how good the soap made his skin feel as it glided across his chest and arms. She studied the dreamy look in those half-mast blue eyes, filled with love at his childlike euphoria.

"Roll over on your side now so I can get your back."

"Kit, you haven't done all of the front of me yet."

"I most certainly did too!" She giggled.

"Huh? Where was I?"

"You were mesmerized, my dear."

Dutifully, he rolled to his side in the toasty water, determined more than ever that he'd emerge refreshed, renewed, and ready to celebrate their anniversary. It just felt . . . so . . . good! As soon as she set the sponge down, he rolled over again and rose to his elbows, bath water sloshing everywhere.

"Uh Uh Uh," she scolded impishly. "I'm just reaching for your shaving brush. In case you hadn't noticed, you've got quite a beard."

Admittedly, shaving the big man wasn't her finest skill, so she started in slowly. Each careful stroke of the straight razor seemed to take forever. He thought about taking it from her and finishing by himself, then thought better of it and relaxed. It was time to erase the events of the day and spend some time together.

"She sure is pretty," Kitty said in nothing more than a murmur.

"Huh?"

"Elaine. She and I spent some time together today. Was Lee that beautiful?"

"Stop it. I don't want to talk about Elaine or Lee tonight, okay?"

She smiled and turned his head so she could start working on the other cheek. "You're going to tell me all about Cort and Honey's empire?"

"Kitty!" She came dangerously close to his nose when he sat straight up in the tub. "We have a long train ride home tomorrow. How about I fill you in then?"

"Fair enough. You got a stateroom?"

"I did. Just Mr. and Mrs. Dillon, no Earl."

She set the razor safely on the floor and put her lips on his. "I got involved in your business in a roundabout way. You can't blame me for being curious."

"You, my beautiful redhead, would be curious regardless." He grabbed the sponge and wiped the traces of soap and whiskers from her upper lip. "You look like a woman I could love, what with that soap on your face. Now finish up so I can get you in bed where you belong."

Dry and clean, he padded softly out of the water closet and plopped down into the big bed, then stroked the sheets next to him. Kitty eased in right next to him, a chill running up her back at the thought that they were finally together on what was left of their special day. His lips automatically found hers when he pulled himself into her.

"Mmmm," she purred. "You smell so good!"

"Happy anniversary, Kitten, he whispered. Do I have any clean clothes left?"

"Why on earth would you be thinking about clothes?"

"Promised to take my best girl out to dinner."

"Matt, it's eight o'clock. Why don't I just order something up?"

"Not a chance. Just let me rest here a few minutes while you start getting ready."

"Okay if I rest a few minutes with you? Been waiting all day, you know."

He kissed her softly. "Silly question, Mrs. Dillon."

It was almost like putting a baby to bed. His face snuggled into the sweet, soft valley between her breasts, his favorite pillow after a long ride across the prairie. The room was quiet and cool; Kitty sat up just long enough to pull the sheet up over both of them. Matt kissed her once more, then she felt his breathing slow . . . and slow . . . until it was barely perceptible. But she'd had enough practice at this that it was a finely honed skill. She slithered out from under him, took a long look at the sleeping giant, then walked to the wall and pressed the button for the bellman. Service at the Blackstone might have been good, but service at the Palmer House was exceptional. The bellman was at her door in less than three minutes, then back with two steak dinners in under thirty. He was observant, especially of the big man in the bed and the seven-inch Colt .45 hanging on the bedpost next to him. He set up the serving table quietly, then bowed to Kitty.

"All compliments of Mister Price, ma'am. Will there be anything else?"

"No, thank you," she whispered.

She tipped the man generously for taking such care, then locked the door behind him. The aromas of steak au poivre with its freshly cracked peppercorns and cognac wafted through the room. There was no way Matt Dillon could sleep through that.

But he did.

"Matt, you ready to eat?" She nudged him gently. Maybe too gently, so she tried again "Matt, come on now, you need to eat."

"Mmmm Hmmm," he mumbled. "In a minute." Then he rolled to his side and his breathing deepened again. Hands on her hips, Kitty huffed and just stood there staring at him. This was proving to be an anniversary she'd remember for the rest of her life. He looked so peaceful sleeping there, almost like a little boy. She leaned over and gave him a tender smooch in the ear. When nothing happened, she knew it'd be steak au poivre for one.

XOXOXO

Sunrise on the prairie. Matt came awake ready to stoke the campfire and find Buck before he realized where he was. He looked at the remains of some feast on the table, then at the clock. Panic set in. He'd missed a whole night!

"Kitty, wake up! We've got to be at Price's breakfast meeting in half an hour!"

"I don't work for Price," she mumbled and pulled the covers over her head.

"The guys love you," he pleaded. "Price puts on a good breakfast, c'mon."

"Not hungry," came the muffled reply from the bed.

"I missed dinner, didn't I?"

She'd thought about it every day since they'd left Dodge. Their big day. But as it wore on, she knew. Last night when he fell asleep without eating, she was sure. This morning the very last thing she wanted to do was whoop it up with Griffith Price and his men, or make small talk with Elaine, for that matter. She poked her head out from under the covers.

"Yes. You missed dinner."

His heart sank. He knelt next to the bed and pulled her face into his chest, filling her hair with kisses.

"I'm so sorry, Kitten." She looked up to see a man with nothing but love in his eyes.

"It's all right, Matt. Not like your job hasn't spoiled a few other plans."

"Yeah." He nodded sluggishly. "But you came all this way and if it hadn't been for you . . ."

"Hush now." She put her index finger to his lips. "We can celebrate in that nice stateroom on the train. Go on, get dressed. Your boots are polished, your clean clothes are laid out and your badge is pinned on your shirt."

"You had quite the busy evening, Mrs. Dillon." He was almost ready to smile.

XOXOXO

It looked like a receiving line.

There on the platform stood the congressman who'd taken charge of the United States Marshals Service at the direction of the President of the United States, flanked by three renowned lawmen who reported to him.

Kitty tried to hang back, but the fourth renowned lawman had her arm in his firm grip for the walk up the stairs. He leaned down and whispered in her ear.

"I told you they love you. Just roll with it, okay?"

"Mrs. Dillon, my apologies that this trip was a bit more involved than advertised." Griffith Price shook her hand. "I know Matt is proud of you. Just wanted to tell you I am too. Now take this man home and feed him, for heaven's sake! Never met anyone who could consume as much food. Don't know how you two make it on his salary."

"It's all right Mr. Price. He misses enough meals, it all works out." The smile on her face was for Price, but the sparkle in her eyes was for her husband.

Standing next to Price, Tripp Townsend towered over his boss. He took Kitty's hand firmly, then pulled her in for a hug.

"I gotcha." He winked down at her and smiled. "Just in case."

"Thank you, Tripp. I'll never forget you. And not just for catching me, either."

Kitty pulled back from the big man's embrace and went immediately to Ply Watson. "And you, Ply. Let's just put it this way. If I ever get to Columbus, I'll show up in your office and ask for Tripp Townsend. How's that?"

"Sorry I scared you that night, beautiful lady. Good-bye." He gave her a big hug, then a quick kiss on the cheek and handed her back to Matt.

"What's all this about scarin' her?" Matt couldn't resist.

"Matt Dillon!" Kitty teased. "We have a long train ride home. How about I fill you in then?"

Matt's face flushed. Turnabout was fair play.

"Jim, give Kentucky my best. If you're ever in Dodge look us up. It's just been a delight meeting you."

"Good-bye, Kitty," he smiled at her. "And it's Gabs, remember?"

"I do, Gabs. Cause you're so chatty." She smiled warmly at him with those inviting blue eyes. Jim Gabbert may have been a man of few words, but he never missed an opportunity to hug a beautiful woman. Then he stood Kitty straight up so she could face Blake Rains. The young deputy looked scared.

"I, uh, well . . . I'm sure sorry about that first day."

"Blake, you and I are way past that. I'm so proud to know you. Will you visit us in Dodge some day?"

"You really mean that?"

"I mean it with my whole heart, Blake. Maybe Tripp would give you a couple weeks to ride with one of our deputies. It'd give you a whole new look at marshaling in the wilds of western Kansas. You're always welcome, and you can stay at our house. Won't even have to sleep on a cot at the jail."

"Yes ma'am!" He shook her hand, the nervousness on his face replaced by a bright smile. He could picture himself in Dodge as she spoke.

Matt picked up the case he had carefully stowed between his legs, then grabbed Kitty's carry on. It was a bittersweet moment. Even though their work had a sad ring to it, he was definitely going to miss these guys. To a man, each one was exceptional.

"Let's go home, Kitty."

"Later, Matt!" "Yeah, hit the trail big guy!" "Catch 'ya down the road, Matt!" "Get a move on Cowboy!" It sounded like a chorus from the men on the platform. All except Griffith Price, who waited until they were finished with their lawman-to-lawman hoorahs.

"I'm proud to work for you, Marshal Dillon." He tipped his hat to the big man, and that was that. The conductor was shouting "all aboard," waving his lantern, while the big coal fired locomotive belched steam, ready to head west. Matt helped Kitty into the coach then for the first time in his career, he turned back and tipped his hat in return to a man. A man named Griffith Price.

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