AN: Thank you so much for reading. A special thank you to LovingmesomeMK for reading and for your kind review. I hope you all enjoy this next chapter.
"I hate to disappoint her, but this job 'a mine isn't the kinda thing you can just set aside whenever ya want, ya know? ….I hate to leave town with her feelin' this way but I just don't know what else to do."
Matt Dillon, The Way It Is
Chapter Two
Matt Dillon's long legs quickly took him down Front Street's boardwalk toward the jail. He kept his head low, briefly touching his Stetson and handing out a polite yet cursory "Ma'am," or "Thank you," in reply to the townspeople who proffered enthusiastic salutations of "Hello, Marshal!" and "Good to have ya back, Marshal!"
Outwardly calm, inside Matt's mind swirled like a violent eddy, his gut churned, his heart squeezed in his chest. In the span of a couple of hours, he'd returned home from Topeka, been handed the news that Kitty had taken up with a man named Ad Bellum, been confronted by this Bellum, and been forced to kill him.
Then, to make matters worse, he'd had to listen as Kitty told him that this fella—now lyin' over at Percy Crump's—had made her feel like a woman.
Matt cringed as those words echoed through his mind.
He could make a woman feel like…. such a woman.
Such a woman.
Matt tried to swallow but his mouth felt full of sawdust as he thought about what that statement possibly meant.
Didn't he make Kitty feel like a woman?
She'd agreed to supper with him, and he'd seen the remorse on her face, but could it still be possible she was through with him?
With them?
It was almost too much to bear. Matt's immediate instinct was to push it all aside, to get back to the jail, unpack, go through the mail and bury himself in the report he now needed to write on Bellum's death. To deal with all of this later, if at all.
But something in Kitty's eyes before he'd left the saloon had told him he couldn't do that, not this time. Not if he wanted—and he most surely did—to repair things with the woman that he loved, the woman who was everything in the world to him.
Matt had seen the hurt, the regret, the embarrassment on Kitty's face as she'd briefly explained things to him after he'd shot down Bellum. He'd also seen the defeat.
Matt Dillon didn't always fully understand women—including the woman he loved—but Matt had realized in that moment that he had driven her to this, and that realization had cut him deeply. Matt could see the pain he had caused her, and he ached to make it right. He had wished then and there that they could just put this whole ugly mess behind them.
But Matt knew he needed to face what had happened between them. Had to face the discontentment Kitty felt in their relationship. Had to face what part he had played in pushing Kitty into the arms of another man.
After what seemed like an interminable amount of time but was only a few moments, Matt finally reached the jail and entered, thankful to have found it empty. He needed to get his thoughts together, needed to get some things straight in his head before he talked to Kitty. Matt bolted the door behind him, hung his hat by the door and sat down with a thud at his cluttered desk, drumming his long fingers on the wooden surface, a huge frown taking over his handsome, sun-tanned face.
Matt thought back on the fight they'd had the day before he left for Topeka. Kitty had seemed fine, albeit a little quiet the night before after he had finally broken the news about his impending trip.
Matt had been holding her tight in his arms while they were lyin' half-asleep, both basking the contentment of just having spent several incredible hours in bed together. He had meant to tell her about the dance earlier but had gotten, well….distracted. Matt felt like this was probably the best opportunity he was gonna get to tell Kitty that he'd received a telegram to report to Topeka, that he wouldn't be in town to take her to the sociable after all.
Kitty had slightly tensed in his arms, hadn't said much after that before they'd gone to sleep. The next morning he'd kissed her and left before sunup, while she was still fast asleep. His first clue that something was wrong hadn't come until later when reports of her behavior started trickling in—first from Sam, then from Doc, then from Chester, even from Moss: Kitty wasn't actin' like herself.
Lookin' back, Matt realized with chagrin that she must have been seething the whole time. He really hadn't given her a chance to talk about it that night. Probably shouldn't have broken the news how he did. Or when, he thought with a grimace.
When she had finally returned to the Long Branch late morning that fiery temper had sure been on full-display. He thought about the statement she'd thrown out right before she'd stormed upstairs—You just troop along without me, I'm through bein' one 'a the boys.
….one 'a the boys.
One of the boys?
Kitty Russell was a lot of things to Matt Dillon, but one of the boys had most assuredly never been one of them.
Matt had quickly realized this was more than a fleeting moment of anger. And yet, up in the privacy of her room, he hadn't exactly been a pillar of understanding during their talk. Matt winced when he thought about how he had dismissed Kitty's anger, about the things he'd said….
Ha. Well you oughta be able to understand that….
You know if you and I are gonna have a fight it seems to me we can find somethin' better to fight about than a sociable…..
Oh, it's not as bad as all that….
….I'm sorry….but that's just the way it is.
….the way it is.
The way it is.
Sitting here alone in the jail, his relationship in peril, Matt realized what a fool thing that'd been to say. Kitty surely knew better than anyone the way it was, considerin' how she'd been right there alongside him for the last….had it really been going on eight years now?
It seemed like just yesterday his eyes had landed on that little blue-eyed, redheaded, sopping wet girl at the back-corner table of Delmonico's, eating her breakfast and lookin' miserable. Kitty was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen that morning. She was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen to this day.
Matt sighed deeply and ran his hand across his face. He really didn't know how things had gotten so out of hand. Perhaps this whole thing had been a long time in coming. He knew that badge wasn't fair to Kitty, took a toll on her, had known it from the beginning. That was the reason, along with her safety, that Matt had tried to resist takin' things further with her for so long.
What was it Doc had said?
It's just no good for a woman to demand more from a man than he can give her.
That wasn't exactly a fair characterization of their relationship.
Kitty had always been amazingly understanding regarding the badge and how often it interfered in their lives—much more so than Chester or even Doc, for that matter, could ever appreciate.
But she had just always been that way.
There was really no comparison to the other women he'd known….Kitty was unique among them. Oh boy, she had a temper alright. But she rarely complained about anything pertaining to their relationship, never placed demands on him, never tried to change him the way every single woman before her ultimately had. Matt knew all Kitty had sacrificed—all she kept sacrificing—to be his girl. But she had always seemed alright with the way things were. And she was so strong, so independent, so capable.
His girl—and by golly, he prayed he could still call her that—was just about perfect.
Somewhere along the line he guessed he'd started to take that for granted, to forget that his ordinary was actually anything but.
Matt thought about all Kitty was to him, for him, with him. Her arms were the only place he'd ever found real peace. She was the one constant, the one steadying force, the one beautiful thing in his violent, tumultuous, ugly world.
….Kitty Russell was his rock.
Most people didn't realize US Marshal Matt Dillon had a rock, that he even had a need 'a one.
But Matt knew.
He thought of how Kitty always knew what he needed, even when he didn't. How she was always there, ready to offer him her mind, her body, her love, whatever he needed, whenever he needed it, expecting so little in return.
Matt hung his head in shame as he thought of the ways he was there for her.
They often didn't even come close to measuring up, not to his way of figurin.
It wasn't that he didn't love Kitty—Matt knew enough to know Kitty was the love of his life. He loved her more than he'd ever loved anyone, more than he ever would love anyone. It just wasn't his way to talk about feelings. It wasn't his way to provide lengthy explanations. And so he rarely had. Including during their fight a week ago.
Sitting there at his desk, his head in his hands, the truth crashed down on Matt Dillon like a ton 'a bricks. He'd been smacked in the face with it sitting here thinking he might lose her, thinkin' he mighta already lost her….
He needed Kitty.
Big, tough, US Marshal Matt Dillon needed Kitty Russell. He needed her love, he needed to love her, he needed the way she alone understood him.
He needed Kitty.
And if he needed her….
For the first time ever, Matt started entertaining the wild idea that as strong as Kitty was, as fiercely independent, maybe….just maybe….she needed him too.
Maybe she had especially needed him that day one week ago. Maybe she'd needed more than all he had managed to give her—his "that's just the way it is" speech.
How could he have been such a fool?
Matt abruptly stood from his desk and made his way over to the wooden stand next to the door. He had to talk to Kitty, hoped it wasn't too late to make any difference.
Matt poured some cool water from the porcelain pitcher into the matching basin, splashed his face, and combed through his thick, dark hair. Fortifying himself with a deep breath, he placed his Stetson on his head and left the jail, headed for the Long Branch.
tbc
