Chapter 1: Chapter 1
Disclaimer: Not mine. Not making any money off of it. Etc., etc., etc. All the marbles belong to PARAMOUNT/ VIACOM, so please don't sue me-you won't be making any money off of me either.
Summary: Kitty volunteers to help Doc take two recently orphaned children to their relative's homestead near Dodge. Unfortunately, things don't go quite as planned and trouble finds them soon in the form of Dan Biggs, a vengeful outlaw who is on his way to Dodge in search of Matt. Forced into a deadly game in order to save his friend's lives, the Marshal soon finds himself fighting for his own.
Rating: T for some adult language and situations.
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Chapter One
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"You know, Matt," said Doc Adams as he ceased twisting the toothpick between his teeth just long enough to point with it at the Marshal. "Seems to me you might have to get yourself a second job just so you can keep your first one."
It was early afternoon and the town doctor and the Marshal had just finished having a late lunch at Delmonico's with Kitty and Chester.
The tall lawman held the door for Kitty to step out onto the boardwalk. He sighed. "Well, Doc, it sure's startin' to look that way." For the last three weeks, he had been waiting in vain for his monthly paycheck from the War Department in Washington. A delay in itself was nothing unusual, but never before had it taken that long and he was definitely beginning to feel the pinch by now.
Kitty paused inside the doorway and tilted her head to look up at him. She thoughtfully touched a finger to her lips. "Hmm," she mused slyly, "I'd give you a job."
Matt glanced down at her, unable to suppress a grin. In the four years they'd been together, Kitty had never missed an opportunity to promote a less dangerous profession for him whenever given the chance. "You would, would you," he chuckled, somehow already having a pretty good idea what was coming next. He put on his hat and adjusted it on his forehead. "Well, what you got in mind?" he then wondered anyway.
"Oh...I don't know." The pretty redhead pursed her lips in a thoughtful expression. "But I'm pretty sure we could find something for you to do around the Long Branch."
Right away, Matt's grin widened. "I see." He crossed his arms over his chest and regarded her amused. "Well, let me tell ya somethin' Kitty. If this keeps goin', I might just take you up on it."
The Marshal's words caused an immediate frown to pass across Doc's face. He pulled a hand from the pocket of his baggy trousers and scratched behind his ear, eyes turned up in thought. His face lit up as he suddenly remembered a sign he had seen in the undertaker's window this morning. "Oh, Matt, say," he exclaimed. "I heard Percy Crump's lookin' for help."
He hadn't really been serious, the humorous glint in his eyes and the twitching of his graying mustache betraying his intentions, but Chester apparently failed to notice.
"Well, honest to goodness, Doc," he immediately tossed in frowning as he emerged from behind Kitty. "That sure's a fool way to be talkin'!" He snorted in disbelief. "I mean, can you imagine...Mister Dillon bein' the one shootin' a fella an' then turn around an' do the buryin', too?"
Instantly, the doctor bristled. He sniffed and swiftly dragged a hand across his mustache, leveling the full weight of his annoyed gaze upon Chester.
"Golly, I don't see what that's—" he started to say, but Matt, seeing him gear up for an argument, held up a hand to stop him.
"Well, now wait a minute, that might not be such a bad idea." He clasped his fingers around his belt buckle. "You wanna tell me more about it, Doc?"
Chester gawked at him in disbelief, but what ever he was going to say, was suddenly sidetracked by a cloud of dust that was quickly approaching from the edge of town. He craned his neck to peer past Matt's shoulder.
"Oh, Mister Dillon, look," he said excitedly. "The stage's comin' in!" He cast the lawman a hopeful glance, his argument with the doctor momentarily forgotten. "Maybe your paycheck's on it this time."
Matt raised his brows, his face showing his doubts. He took a deep breath and let it falter between his lips. "Well, let's go an' find out." He nodded at the physician, "Doc," he excused himself and then turned to Kitty, touching the brim of his hat. "I see you later."
Smiling, Kitty nodded at him in dismissal. For a moment, her gaze followed him as he stepped from the boardwalk and down into the dusty street, Chester falling into step alongside him. She heaved a small sigh and turned back to the doctor, a rueful smile on her lips. "Well, can't blame me for tryin', Doc."
The crusty physician gave her arm an encouraging pat. "By golly...an' you keep tryin'."
Even though she rarely said it outright, Doc was well aware of how Kitty felt about Matt's job as US Marshal. Too many times had he seen the anguish and pain in her eyes whenever he had to dig a bullet out of the lawman or stitch him up, and secretly, he sometimes wished himself that Matt would just hang up his badge and marry Kitty. Shaking off his thoughts, he offered her his arm. "Can I interest you in a little stroll?" he ventured smiling.
His eyes were twinkling merrily and Kitty found herself returning the smile, despite herself. She placed her hand in the crook of his elbow. "You most certainly can."
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The rumble of wheels and the clopping of hooves announced the arrival of the stage as it came rattling down Front Street. A team of four horses preceded the massive coach, their harnesses and reins jangling with each thunderous step. Clouds of dust spewed in the air, kicked up by the resounding strike of hooves.
Moments later, it came to a shuddering halt in front of the Overland Express depot, engulfing everyone in close proximity in an enormous cloud of dust.
Jim Buck's gaze quickly skimmed the small crowd that had congregated on the boardwalk"Howdy, Marshal...hello, Chester," he called out when he recognized the two men standing amidst the spectators.
Matt stepped up to the stage and casually placed an elbow onto the nearest window opening. He squinted up at the driver against the glare of afternoon sunlight. "Hello, Jim. Had a good trip?"
"Nothin' unusual," he said as he swiftly secured the leathers. "Still wish I had me someone to ride shotgun though...been over a week since Dan quit an' they still haven't send me a replacement."
Matt's head dipped in acknowledgment. "Well, I see what I can do."
"Thanks, Marshal, I—" said Jim, and then stopped short, suddenly remembering that the lawman's frequent visits as of late had not been to make polite conversation. He didn't waste any more time with small talk and reached behind his seat, pulling a stack of letters from the mail bag.
"Well...here's the mail," he said as he handed the pile down to Matt. "Whatever it is you're waitin' for...I hope you got it this time."
Matt thanked him and immediately began to riffle through the small stack while Chester beside him sniffed and coughed, waving a hand in front of his face to disperse the dust raised by the horses.
"I tell ya one thing, Mister Dillon...a little rain sure wouldn't hurt us none."
"Yeah," agreed Matt absently, too engrossed in thumbing through the mail to pay him much attention.
Chester sidled closer for a better look.
"Nothin' again?" he wondered as he curiously peered over the Marshal's shoulder.
Matt looked up. His thumb flicked back the brim of his Stetson in annoyance as he exhaled wearily.
"No, nothin' again, Chester."
Disappointed, he slapped the pile of letters into the palm of his open hand. "Let me tell ya...that job at Crump's startin' to sound mighty good."
Right away, Chester scowled. "Oh, now, Mister Dillon...you ain't serious about that...I mean...come on."
Matt shot him a look that left no doubt as to how serious he felt at this very moment. "Don't tempt me," he growled and then gave the brim of his Stetson a sharp tug, pulling it down low over his forehead. He stepped back up onto the boardwalk and was about to head for the jail when a small voice suddenly stopped him dead in his tracks.
"Excuse me, sir..."
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