RESCUED: CHAPTER 18

Kitty heard men's voices in the yard, so she dimmed the lantern and peeked out through the bedroom window, long ago closed on such an unseasonably cold night. The wind was whipping strands of a long black tail in all directions, but the color of that big horse's butt in the moonlight was unmistakable. Festus was in front of the barn talking with Matt! Her heart jumped into her throat. Matt!

Sara was sound asleep in her crib under the stairs, so she flew to the foyer and pulled her heavy coat over her chemise. The flimsy bedroom slippers would have to do; there just wasn't time to dress for the occasion. The wind slammed the door back on its hinges when she tried to close it behind her, so she cursed softly and just let it fly. She caught a glimpse of Festus turning Matt around to face her, then three seconds later she was in his arms: those big, strong, wonderful arms!

"I'll tell you the rest tomorrow, Festus. Put him away for me, will you?"

"Don't you fret a particle, Matthew. I'll give 'im oats an' rub 'im down too. Git 'er in whar it's warm!"

Matt scooped Kitty up in his arms and carried her into the house, then used his leg to close the door. She clung to his neck like glue, not letting go until she felt him on top of her in the big brass bed. He raised up on his elbows, took a quick look as if studying his target, then crushed into her lips, his tongue finding hers, tasting, probing, relishing what he'd been thinking about on the long ride home. Two practiced lovers took synchronous breaths, then went back to each other's lips. He concluded the second kiss by lingering there, stroking her lips with his tongue like a child licking honey from a spoon.

"I love you," she managed to mumble without closing her lips.

"Mmmm Hmmm. Feeling's mutual."

The third kiss was softer, more sensual, Kitty now beyond any doubt that Matt was okay, and Matt now beyond any hallucination that he was dreaming. Their lips parted slowly this time, and they looked into each other's eyes.

"You were gone forever." She whispered.

"Only gone a week, Kit."

"On a two-day ride." She swept her lips across his.

"Surprised you're not used to that by now."

"I'll never get used to it. You're okay then?"

"Fine. Just cold. Sara okay?"

"She's perfect. She's sleeping in her crib with her little kitten, all warm and toasty. Frank, Matt. What happened to Frank?"

"He got hurt in an ambush, Kitten, but Joseph Brooker is with him at Dave Henry's place. He would've died without that young doctor. As it turns out, they both should be back in a couple days."

"Thank God!"

"Yeah. Frank reminded me to do that."

"You let me up, Matt Dillon! I'm gonna get your hot bath drawn!"

"Not a chance. I need to touch every part of you right now."

He went in for another kiss, feeling her respond like she was starving. Bedroom slippers and all, her feet were writhing on his legs. He'd lost himself in thought about that all the way home in the damned prairie wind.

He knew they'd be past the point of no return if he didn't get up and draw a bath soon. She was all clean and rosy and smelled like a flower in spring, and he smelled like a horse. He forced himself to sit up.

"I'll get the hot water."

"NO!" She announced emphatically. "You need to touch every part of me, remember?"

"Yeah. I like that idea. You sure you want a dirty cowboy in this bed with you?"

"All over every part of me." She said softly, pretending that her smile was shy.

He stood and peeled his coat and clothes off in record time, dumping them in an unceremonious heap on the floor, then flung his hat across the room, not even aware that he still had it on.

"Get out of that coat, Mrs. Dillon!" He knew she'd have to stand to take it off, but she did eagerly.

"Get out of that flimsy thing you still have on, Mrs. Dillon!"

"But I might get cold like you are," she tilted her head and smiled, gesturing toward the part of him most affected by cold.

"Under the covers, lady. NOW!"

Instead of waiting politely, he pulled the big down quilt back, scooped her up in his arms again, and deposited her purposefully on the bed: HIS side of the bed! He stepped in over her and pulled the quilt up like a tent. The warmth underneath was intoxicating.

"Where were we?" He teased as he moved up and down her neck depositing little kisses.

"You were cold, remember?"

"Still am. My ears."

She wiggled up underneath him, capturing an ear with her lips, nuzzling it with warm air. It was his turn to do the writhing now. She lingered until she felt the skin warm, then pushed his head aside and worked on the other one, remembering how long it had been since she'd warmed him this way, and how delightful the end result had been. When she started moving back down under him, his lips met hers again in an intense kiss that seemed to last an eternity, the evidence of his mounting eagerness already starting to poke into her gut.

"Touch me, Kitten," he begged.

Her practiced hand found his desire like magic. She massaged him expertly: slowly at first, then more deliberately as his body responded. Then she took one finger and circled his tip until he pulsed eagerly; one hundred twenty pounds of woman ready to drive a drive a man more than twice her size into a stupor! All too soon he felt his body pushing on its own without reason, about to betray him in uncommanded passion. Then the ultimate rescue: His lover took him into her hand again and expertly guided him home, deep into the heat between those gorgeous thighs, the place he'd been craving since her first touch. Pushing again, now all was right with the world: only three more thrusts, and he parted with every bit of love he had to offer her. The aftershocks came in waves, each one pounding clear up into his gut. Exhausted, he pushed one last time, almost oblivious to her immediate throbbing around him.

They laid together joined in the backwash, fighting for air under the covers that had helped warm him. He struggled onto one elbow and pushed the quilt open, studying her closed eyes in the dim lantern light. Then he buried his lips into her neck, nuzzling and nibbling, celebrating the ultimate ecstasy they'd both shared.

"Ohhh, Matt!" She finally whispered.

He rolled to her side, blue eyes meeting blue.

"Just gimme a minute. More places I forgot to touch."

He went right to her breasts, licking, tasting, relishing the silky, warm skin until both nipples were swollen and hard. He nibbled at them gently with his lips, then circled them over and over again with his tongue.

"Matt!" She breathed.

"Be patient Kitten . . . More places."

Her belly was next to surrender to those lips, all the while he stroked her thighs softly, carefully parting them so his fingers could dance up and down on that satiny soft skin on the inside. She buried her hands in his curls, pulling on him, begging him, wanting him, desperate to share her euphoria with him. But still he lingered, nipping the insides of her thighs, feeling her pull on his hair in perfect time with each little bite. How could she ask more clearly? He slid up to face the object of his love, full and erect as though he hadn't had a woman in a year. Her breath was coming in spurts.

"Matt!" She gulped.

"One last place." He kissed her softly, then let himself touch her tentatively, making sure she wanted this as much as he did.

"Matt! Yessss! Please!"

He entered her slowly, his urgency replaced by determination to savor the thrill, to pleasure her, to delight her until the sun came up.

"Slowly, beautiful lady," he whispered into her ear. "Let me lead."

But he'd readied her with all his touches, creating a need that was never easy to manage. She was still pushing up into him eagerly.

"Help me, Kitten. Let me lead," he repeated in a gentle whisper.

Soft kisses on her lips brought her to him. Her breath slowed while she concentrated on their dance. She was joined with him for the second time in half an hour: joined with a man who'd been out on the prairie all day, a man who should have been craving a hot meal and some sleep, but instead craved her. So she followed the man she loved as they moved from frenzied urgency to their heavenly slow dance, now in three-quarter time. He pushed her back, she followed. He dipped, she followed into him. She saw herself on the dance floor the night of their wedding reception. He eased her forward, she followed. There she was, in that beautiful red dress, Matt in his courtin' coat, his arms wrapped around her in front of all those people. Love surged over them like a tidal wave, just as it had that night. He pushed, she followed. The music was faster now, but still she followed, savoring his touch. Then faster, faster . . .

"Matt?" She opened her eyes and met his, breathless from the effort. The dance floor was suddenly gone. The people were gone. The red dress was gone. He was skin to skin on her, leading her faster, then faster, relishing her heat with each stroke, pressing his lips on hers, then faster, until neither of them could keep up with the music. He had but one word left.

"Kitten!"

She closed her eyes and saw the flashes of brilliant light, timed perfectly with his last step. They pressed their bodies together, united in one final dip while the crescendo played wildly for both of them.

XOXOXO

Matt woke at five a.m. Kitty was snuggled in next to him, warm and safe. He kissed her softly on the cheek, then slid silently out from under the quilt and pulled a union suit on. He padded quietly out of the room and stopped at the crib, reaching down to kiss the other girl who controlled his life. She slept through his predawn ministrations just as expertly as Kitty had. The parlor was chilly: First orders of business were to stoke the fire in the stove, then build a pot of coffee. The door to the guest room was wide open, no Charlie to be found anywhere. There was an envelope addressed to him centered on the perfectly made bed, so he turned up the lantern and read it while the coffee brewed.

"Matt, thanks for letting me play Deputy, and thanks for the lodging in your beautiful home. It was like old times, but a lot better. Sara will exceed every skill Stacey has, and then some. Ground her well, Matt. When she's ready, turn her loose on the world and never look back. It'll be the hardest thing you'll ever do.

We both know that serving as a United States Marshal is a very special privilege. But having a family is the ultimate privilege any marshal will ever know.

Hope to see you in Denver soon. It's your turn. Till then, stay safe out there.

Charlie"

"Matt? He looked up to see Kitty in her blue robe.

"Hey, beautiful." He took her in his arms and gave her a deep kiss. "Sorry I woke you. Charlie's gone?"

"Mmmm Hmmm. I sent him home two days ago when the Pinkertons brought Mr. Bodkin's money."

"But the Martin outfit was bringin' in two thousand head the day I left! How'd Bodkin ever cover payday so you could get the saloons open?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe he came up with another idea." The gleam in her eyes was unmistakable.

"Tell me about it." He pulled her in for another kiss, knowing she'd managed the whole deal.

"You'll hear about it soon enough. That letter from Charlie any of my business?"

He handed it to her. "Yeah, it's every bit your business since you're gonna spend the rest of your life with me."

She read it slowly, then again, and nodded up at him. "Charlie's sayin' it right. One more page to put in our scrapbook."

"Kit . . ." He drew a deep breath and studied her eyes. There was a time down there when I didn't think Frank was gonna make it. Could happen to me too, any time. Maybe I should re-think that job . . ."

She laid her finger gently on his lips.

"Never again, Matt Dillon. You never need to say that again."

END

A/N

Once again, THANK YOU to all my readers - members and guests alike. Whether you review, PM, or just read in the shadows, I see the story stats and am overwhelmed at your interest!

I've had several comments about the history in this story. For those who crave more, read what I researched and look at the lavish "Palace Hotel" (it is hot diggity dog the bomb!) on the internet at historical hotels dot org and the "ascending room" on Teagle elevator dot com. Aggressive hydraulics dot com confirms that both steam and hydraulic oil were available in the late 18th century, so I went with hydraulics. There's very good information about Anthrax on the Centers for Disease Control website. The Kansas State Historical Society has revealing information about the growing popularity of sheep during these times at at KHSH dot org. Head over to Rush County dot org for a virtual tour of their barbed wire museum and all sorts of fascinating history about the product that contributed to the end of the great Texas cattle drives. Or you can just head out here to rural Colorado, where we've still got the darned stuff strung out everywhere for miles!

Vaya con dios everyone,

Zip

PLEASE WATCH FOR "THERE'S ALWAYS TOMORROW PART 10, THE ANNIVERSARY" coming next . . .