Chapter Four
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It was well past one in the morning by the time Matt had finished his nightly rounds of the town. Much to his disappointment, his inquiries regarding Luke Crandall had not turned up any useful information. At least, the day had ended peaceful though and without any over-night 'guests' at the jail, there was no need for him to spend the night at the office. Aside from the fact that he preferred Kitty's bed over his own, lumpy cot, he knew that she was waiting for him, wanting to hear whether he had found out anything.
After leaving Chester in charge of the empty jail, he headed back down to the Long Branch.
The soles of his boots scraped against the scuffed planks, sending clipped echoes rebounding into the night as he strode down the length of the boardwalk, pausing now and then to double-check a door handle here and there.
In stark contrast to only an hour ago, everything was now peaceful and quiet, not a single soul out in the street. There were times, Matt thought, when Dodge was getting downright tame. Unfortunately, it never lasted very long and it made him appreciate nights like this one all the more.
He came to a halt when he reached the Long Branch. A quick glance up towards her window assured him that she hadn't called it a night yet before he rounded the corner and stepped into the alley beside the saloon. Shadows lingered in profuse abundance, draping the discarded crates and empty whiskey barrels, broken chairs and tables—all proof of the booming business, Bill Pence and Kitty were enjoying.
Stopping in front of the side door, he fished in his vest pocket for the key Kitty had given him three years ago, shortly after it had become apparent that he was spending more than just the occasional night at her room. She had handed it to him with the explanation that it would be more practical if he could let himself in, but to Matt, the key had meant much more than that. He had never told her, but to him, it was a token of her love, a sign of her trust in him, another bond linking him to Kitty. Of course, he had figured out fairly quickly that she was counting on him to make good use of the key. So far, he had.
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The gentle creaking of the floorboards under his weighty tread as he walked down the hall, drifted to Kitty's ear. She ceased running the brush through her long, red hair and set it down onto the vanity. Moments later, a soft knock could be heard.
Kitty smiled to herself; he usually only bothered with such proprieties when he saw light spilling through the crack at the bottom of the door or during the daytime when he was subject to the inevitable scrutiny of others.
She rose to her feet and headed for the door.
A second knock was followed moments later by the hushed sound of his familiar voice.
"Kitty?"
The door swung soundlessly on its hinges as Kitty opened it to admit the lawman. He took off his hat and stepped past her into the room.
"How'd it go?" she wondered after she had locked the door behind him. "Did you find out anything more about this uncle Luke?"
Matt turned to face her, his fingers toying with the brim of the hat. The answer was written all over his face. "Not a thing," he said quite unnecessarily. He ran a hand down the back of his hair to massage the aching muscles of his neck. "Chester an' I've been to ev'ry saloon in Dodge an' nobody's heard of this Luke Crandall."
"Hmmm...that just doesn't make any sense at all." She took her seat in front of the vanity again and continued to brush out her hair. "Surely, there's got to be someone who knows him, or at least heard of him."
Matt tossed his hat onto the table. "Well, I tell ya...if there is, we haven't found him yet."
He laced a hand through his hair and expelled a tired breath. A jumble of dark curls sprang back into place the moment his fingers slipped free. After unfastening his gun belt, he moved over to Kitty's latest acquisition, a spacious cast-iron bedstead.
A remembering smile curved the corners of his mouth as he recalled how Kitty had proudly presented it to him a week ago, explaining that it matched the decor of her room better than the old wooden one had. But despite her seemingly plausible explanation, he had gotten the distinct feeling that it had less to do with the decor than with him. At six foot seven, he wasn't exactly the smallest man, and the old bed had never really been big enough to accommodate the both of them very comfortably.
He slung the gun belt over the post of the footboard and then lowered his large frame onto the bed. The mattress dipped under his weight and the bedsprings squeaked loudly in protest. The bed was soft and very comfortable, inviting him to catch up on some much-needed sleep. Stifling a yawn, he began to strip off his dusty boots.
"You look tired," observed Kitty.
He looked up to meet her gaze in the mirror. "I am," he muttered, offering her a smile that matched how he felt. "But I'd sleep a lot better if I knew where to find this Luke Crandall."
Kitty thought on it for a moment. "You know something, Matt?"
She put down the brush and their eyes met again in the silvered glass of the vanity mirror. "I know this may sound strange, but what if this uncle Luke doesn't want to be found?"
Matt ceased tugging on his boot, considering her words. "Well, anything's possible," he conceded with a shrug. "But I got a hunch, it's much simpler than that...he probably just didn't get the letter yet." He paused, his face now taking on a slightly sour expression. "Seein' how the mail around here seems to be takin' its time lately, I wouldn't be a bit surprised."
"Well, I guess that's sure enough true," the redhead agreed, reminded at once of the dress she had special-ordered from St. Louis well over two months ago. It had yet to show up. She rose to her feet and walked over to the wardrobe where she disposed of her frilly dress robe. "You never told me what Doc had to say."
Matt shrugged. "I didn't talk to him...the last I checked, he wasn't back yet." He rose to stand and pulled off his vest, his eyes following her as she began to move towards the window. "Well, there's not much more we can do about it tonight anyway. I make sure I'll talk to him first thing in the mornin'."
Kitty couldn't agree more; if anyone knew every farmer and sodbuster who lived within a hundred mile radius, it was Doc Adams. "I can't think of anyone better to ask," she said as she closed the window.
The warm light of the oil lamp infused the room with a brassy glow, akin to the yellow glimmer of a late-day harvest sun. Its wavering light played over her figure outlined against the window and Matt couldn't help but notice how the thin cotton nightgown was clinging rather provocatively to the delicate form of her petite frame, accentuating every subtle curve.
Kitty drew the curtains shut. A sudden awareness of his presence compelled her to turn, but before she could, a pair of strong hands came to gently rest on her shoulders as Matt stepped up to her from behind. "How about you come to bed," he murmured huskily into her ear as his fingers started a slow, soft massage against her shoulders. "I still owe you for that beer, remember?" He followed up by dropping a soft, persuasive kiss onto her hair.
Kitty's body tingled at the sound of his deep resonating whisper and the warmth of his breath against her skin as he began to nuzzle the curve of her neck. She smiled to herself; obviously, he wasn't as tired as she had thought. She turned in his embrace, taking in the familiar, warm-spicy scent of him. The smell of the outdoors and shaving soap tangled with the sweet, heady musk of sweat; a mixture, she had always found enticing on him.
"I haven't forgotten, cowboy." She slowly splayed a palm across his chest. "But the way you looked when you came through that door, I figured you in no shape to discuss repayment."
Her tone was playful, baiting him and Matt immediately recognized the tease for what it was. He grinned down at her, his hands still on her shoulders. "You don't think I can work it off, huh?" he teased back, blue eyes, dark with desire, probing hers intently. He liked how the light fell soft on her pretty face, leaving some of it in shadows.
Kitty could feel the warmth of his skin radiating through the coarse fabric of his shirt. Idly, her fingers began to toy with the top button. "You could prove me wrong," she challenged, letting her voice trail off seductively as she eased the button free.
A smile tugged at his lips. "I s'pose I could."
One after another, Kitty's fingers worked their way down until the last button on his shirt was undone.
"Then why don't you?" she purred as her fingers parted his shirt.
Matt felt her hand glide over his stomach. The contrast of her cool fingers against his warm skin was startling and his grip on her shoulders tightened noticeably. He pulled her closer.
"I aim to," he murmured against her mouth as his lips claimed hers with tender passion. There was only so much a man could stand and no woman had ever been as quick at arousing his desire as Kitty. He buried his hands in her silky tresses, the subtle, flowery scent of her perfume tantalizing his senses, captivating him.
The way she responded with the same intensity, set off a shiver straight to his core. Her lips were soft and yielding beneath his own as she willingly parted them for him, welcoming his further advances.
He liked how her palms felt on the small of his back and the way her full, nightgown-clad breasts rubbed against his stomach.
He liked it a little too much. His body was responding eagerly, and he had little doubt that she could feel it for herself, pressing herself against him like she did.
His thoughts were quickly confirmed when he felt her fingers glide along the edge of his belt and then down the front of his pants, settling in that most sensitive of spots.
Matt groaned softly. She certainly didn't make it easy for him to keep his clamoring need in check, putting his plan of taking it slow and easy sorely to the test.
Needing to slow things down just a little to gain control of his burgeoning passion, he eased out of their kiss and drew back a little. He raised one hand and gently lifted her chin with one knuckle, drawing her gaze up to his. Her delicate features were now highlighted by a warm blush that colored the ivory skin of her cheeks.
Kitty smiled at the sensuous expression on his face. "Not bad for a tired lawman."
Matt cocked a brow, his blue eyes twinkling impishly. "I'm not all lawman." His voice was a low, deep murmur as he brought his face down to hers again. "And I'm not that tired."
Then he kissed her again deeply, demandingly to prove just that.
His hands left her shoulders, stroking over her back in a motion, both stimulating and tender and then slipped lower to the smooth curves of her backside. Massaging their firmness through the thin fabric of her nightgown in suggestive rhythm, he pressed her hips intimately against him.
Kitty gasped softly, responding to the prominent feel of distinct male arousal against her belly. Her fingers found the buckle of his belt and loosened it and then worked on the buttons of his pants.
It was Matt's undoing—in both senses, and this time, he didn't draw back. Without lifting his mouth from hers, he urged her the short distance over to the bed and collapsed back onto the soft quilt, dragging her down on top of him.
The oil lamp on the bedside table flickered against the red flocked wallpaper, causing their shadows to loom large until Matt reached over and turned down the wick, plunging the room into complete darkness. All that was left was their breathing, their whispers to each other, the rustling of the sheets as their bodies began to entwine and soon move in a fashion as old as humankind.
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A long time later, he lay exhausted, his damp forehead against her shoulder, his sweat-slicked body heavy and inert across hers.
Kitty could feel his heart pounding wildly against her own as she held him, the warm trickle of his breath tickling the skin of her neck. With soothing strokes, she gently slid her fingers through the back of his rumpled hair, waiting patiently for his rampant breathing to return to normal.
It took Matt a moment to float to his senses again. Still breathing a little unevenly, he pushed up on his forearms and smiled down at her. "You s'pose that took care of the beer?"
Kitty returned the smile and reached out to smooth a damp curl off his brow. "Consider the debt paid, cowboy."
Matt gave a satisfied grunt. "Good. You know I don't like leavin' a debt unpaid."
"That's for sure," she replied amused as she trailed a lazy finger down his chest.
Matt bent down and sealed his mouth to hers in a tender kiss. Then he rolled off of her and turned on his side, pulling her back against him like stacked spoons. Holding her close, he buried his face in the damp nape of her neck and spread his hand across her stomach, circling slowly in a calming motion.
With a soft murmur, Kitty snuggled her back closer into the warmth of his chest, feeling wonderfully content and a little sleepy.
One thing was for sure, when Matt made love, he gave as much as he took. Perhaps more. She had known her share of men before this tall and handsome specimen of a lawman had walked into her life, and most of them had been abrupt and self-absorbed, but Matt had been different. Granted, their first intimate encounter had been rather brief—much to the embarrassment of an over-excited, young Marshal—but it still had been a satisfying experience for her. Unlike the others, he had been gentle and attentive, the first one to be genuinely interested in more than just his own gratification.
For a long while, they laid in companionable silence, each deeply aware of the physical presence of the other. Kitty cherished the feeling of complete intimacy and loved the quiet conversations that usually followed their lovemaking.
Whether it was their innermost thoughts, hopes and dreams, fears and disappointments, there was nothing of a personal nature that they withheld from each other. The words they were able to speak freely here, remained in her room and when he left and closed the door behind him they each had learned yet a little more about the other that only served to strengthen the bond they shared.
"Matt?" Kitty broke the silence as she turned to face him.
"Hmm?" he asked with sleepy unconcern, barely hearing her. He was drifting at the edge of sleep, his body satiated, his mind at ease.
She propped herself up on his chest. "What's going to happen to those two if you can't find their uncle?"
A little surprised by her question, he opened his eyes and glanced down at her.
"Well...I'm not sure," he confessed, his voice rumbling deep from his massive chest. "If we can't find him and there's no other kin, they'll most likely end up as wards of the state."
There was a moment of silence as he felt Kitty studying him with the full weight of her gaze.
"You mean, there's nothing else you can do for them?"
Matt expelled a slow breath as though the answer required serious contemplation. "I'm afraid so," he said at last. When she remained silent, he sighed wearily. "Look, Kitty...I'm hired to keep the peace, not look after orphans."
"Yeah, don't I know that," she retorted dejectedly, her tone clearly suggesting that she would prefer him to do the latter. Without another word, she turned back around and snuggled down onto her pillow.
She wasn't upset; deep inside, she knew that Matt would do everything in his power to help those children, but still, his remark had struck a little too close to the truth for comfort.
Neither one of them picked up the conversation and soon, soft snoring noises were telling her that Matt had fallen asleep. Carefully, she extricated herself from his embrace.
"Good night, cowboy," she whispered softly as she rolled over and closed her eyes.
But sleep wouldn't come readily and her mind turned to the two Crandall-orphans again.
She knew what it was like to grow up without parents and her heart went out to the children. Still a child herself when her mother had died, she had been moved from relative to relative until she had finally ended up with a woman named Panacea Sikes.
It wasn't until two years ago that Kitty had finally met the father she had never known when he had paid her an unexpected visit in Dodge. Unfortunately, Wayne Russell's motives hadn't been exactly unselfish and their parting, a few days later, had been a bittersweet one.
She sighed softly and closed her eyes, pushing Wayne Russell from her mind. Her last thought before she fell asleep was the wish that Matt would be able to locate the children's uncle.
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to be continued...