There's Always Tomorrow Part 7

DERAILED

Author's Note:

This is Part 7 of the continuing series, "There's Always Tomorrow." If you're new here, you need to know that each story sequentially flows in time after the one that went before, so you'll enjoy them more if you read them in sequence. Characters are introduced, some remain and some go, just as in any series.

As is true for all of my works, "DERAILED" contains plenty of ADULT CONTENT and ADULT SITUATIONS. This particular installment includes a ton of plain ol'de love and loyalty, too.

You'll recognize snippets from some wonderful original Gunsmoke episodes here: REPRISAL, SAM MCTAVISH M.D, THE GOOD SAMARITANS, WINNER TAKE ALL, AND HOW TO KILL A WOMAN, even a few others. It's such fun to weave these into my universe!

My sincere appreciation to all members and guests who've read and reviewed this series. If you love Matt and Kitty as I do, please let me hear from you. It's a joy to entertain you.

"It's never too late to say thank you"

Kitty Russell in "The Thieves"

DERAILED: CHAPTER 1

Ten Years.

Ten years this magnificent horse had been his friend of friends. They'd ridden across the prairie, into the mountains, and even into the desert together. They'd survived choking dust storms, torrential rains, and blizzards heavy enough to stop a train. They'd been shot at and missed, then shot at and hit. The big buckskin had listened attentively while his cowboy sang the blues by a lonely campfire and shared his deepest, most personal secrets. They'd rescued men, women, and children, and dragged more animals out of bogs than either could remember. He'd gone without food and water beyond the ability of any animal to survive, and never uttered a single complaint. This was simply how life was, working the law. They had a job to do, and they'd done it together with pride. For ten years.

Matt Dillon was as tough as men come. But right here he was, the darkness soon approaching, kneeling at Buck's head, stroking the big gelding softly on the neck, his eyes welling with tears. Twelve hundred pounds of muscle and determination responded by making yet another valiant attempt to get his forelegs in front of him so he could get up. He knew he had to get up. He and Matt could only go on if he got up! The left leg immediately obeyed the brain's command. But the right leg, twisted and pinned under him, would not move. The horse gave a mighty groan and collapsed back onto his side. Matt watched helplessly as Buck thrashed his head on the ground in agony. There was nobody around, no help to be had. The big man lowered his face gently into the horse's neck and just trembled. His partner stayed still.

"We gotta think now, son. Gotta make a plan. We've talked things over for a long time and we can sure as hell do it again now. So let's talk about it cause we're gonna get this figured out. We're both gonna get out of here. I won't let you hurt, you understand?"

The big horse responded with something between his familiar nicker and a pain-wracked grunt. But just that much two-way conversation got Matt upright and seemed to shake him to his senses. He untied his jacket from his saddle and put it under Buck's head. At least it would keep the dirt out of his eye, maybe give him some little bit of comfort.

"Now here's the deal. I have to get this saddle off of you. Gonna feel a lot better without that stirrup under you. I'll get these cinches undone, then you're gonna have to make another one of those beautiful tries for me, okay?"

Matt didn't get an answer this time, nor did he expect one. He was stalling for time, talking himself into what he had to do. Even though it didn't matter, good horsemanship and years of habit made him unbuckle the back cinch first, then untie the front, all the while understanding this would be for the last time. He could feel his heart hammering in his ears. He wiped his face on his sleeve, fighting back the tears, and went on.

"I have to leave your bridle on just a little longer, my friend. Can't have your head moving too much. Understand?"

Again, no response. The horse's eyes were glassy from pain. Matt stood and untied his roll from the saddle, then pulled his canteen out from under Buck's offside shoulder. Both came easily. His rifle was more of a struggle, but he got it, just in case he couldn't get that saddle off. No telling how long he'd be out here or when he'd need it. Then he went back to talk to his friend again.

"I'm gonna ask, Buddy. You've always tried. I know you'll try again. You just give it your best try, and I'll take it from there."

One more time, the gelding groaned and thrashed his head. Carefully, Matt repositioned his coat to protect the eye. Protect it from what? Just to protect it. It was his way. He didn't want to ask again, he knew what the result would be. He drew three deep breaths and released them. Standing on Buck's downed side, he chirped at him and poked him in the neck hard with the toe of his boot. The horse responded with a mighty lunge forward, and he jerked the saddle out from under him, just before his friend gave a huge moan and collapsed back onto the ground.

It was almost over.

Slowly, he walked to Buck's head and traced an X from each ear to the opposing eye. The hair stood up perfectly and stayed there. He wouldn't need to do it again.

"Thanks for all the great years, my friend," he said softly. "Be at peace." Then before he lost his courage he drew his pistol, placed it in the center of the X, and squeezed the trigger.

He decided he'd allow himself a little time to reflect, so he rested on Buck's warm neck and just reveled in the familiar smell. Ten years deserved a few minutes. He had the feeling Buck knew he was there, and the horse was grateful to be instantly over the pain and the struggle. Oh, to go back to an hour ago! Oh, to go back! They'd been long trotting between the two old stage roads to WaKeeney, a shortcut he'd used so many times before. Buck's long trot was magnificent, and they'd easily cut five miles off the trip by abandoning the horrible, hard packed, rutted road. They'd both been looking up ahead, planning their attack on the slope, when Buck hit that rabbit hole. How many rabbit holes had they dodged in ten years? Why did it have to be today? Why did God make his faithful friend die like this? There was no going back. He'd died on the job, on the way to WaKeeney to make peace. Should have been at home, retired in his stall or in his corral, ten years from now. But he'd died in the line of duty. On the job. Just like Matt knew he most likely would one day.

The last pensive thought Matt allowed himself was leaving his friend uncovered on the prairie. There was no way one man could dig a big enough hole to bury a horse in less than a full day. And even if he could, it would take two men to roll the horse in. Matt Dillon didn't have either luxury. He slid the bridle off. By morning when the horse's jaw had set he wouldn't have been able to get it off. Rigor mortis. Doc sometimes called it "The dance of death." He pulled his coat out from under the horse's head, then covered it in his saddle blanket. One final sign of respect.

Time to go, Dillon. Time to get your ass moving and just go. Go where? How? There was only one choice and that was to get back on the stage road, and only one way to get there. It'd be a long, slow walk with over a hundred pounds of gear over his shoulders. He made a loop with his rope through the saddle gullet, tied all his gear on, and pulled it up onto his back. Then he took one last look back at his partner and set out in the waning light.

XOXOXO

"This is exactly what I was hoping to find, Elsie." Kitty twirled again in the full-length mirror. "Very easy to fasten in back, and it makes me look slim where I'm still slim!" Both of them understood and shared a giggle. It was becoming apparent that Kitty Dillon was no longer flat in front. But the waistline was simply higher than typical, and in that small remaining space between her breasts and her belly, Kitty was still tiny.

"It's called an empire waist, Kitty," the dressmaker explained. "On a woman with your gorgeous figure, it's absolutely stunning! It draws the eye upward away from your tummy, accentuates your breasts, and it flows so beautifully that you don't need heavy petticoats under it. This one fits you perfectly right off the rack, but I can easily make another or even more if you want to choose your fabric and color."

"Looks like it'll grow with me. Can I wear it without a corset?"

"I'm surprised you're wearing one today, Kitty. It must be uncomfortable."

"You're reading my mind. That's why I asked. I already have it unbuttoned part way up. I just can't stand it anymore."

"Step behind the screen and take your corset off, then come and look. You'll see what I mean."

"How far along are you?" Elsie Wagner called over the screen.

"Four months. Got a ways to go. Don't suppose I'm going to get any fancier."

"Quite the contrary! There's nothing so attractive as a pregnant woman who's elegantly dressed! And in your case it just speaks volumes about how much you and the marshal love each other! Eyes will be drawn to you the minute you step out in this dress, Kitty. You're so tiny most people in town don't even know about the baby yet."

Kitty stepped out from behind the screen, sans corset, and studied herself in the mirror again.

"You're always right, Elsie. It's just lovely! I'm comfortable now, and it sure doesn't look like anything's sagging yet."

"Kitty," the seamstress chuckled. "The day you look like something's sagging, I'm going to quit making dresses! Now you need to decide on color and fabric. And think about this: You're due in the middle of winter, so you're going to need something warm with long sleeves. This one is perfect now, but it's much too summery to go the distance."

"Such a great suggestion! Yes, of course I will. Can I buy this one and wear it today? I have more shopping to do, and it's SO comfortable!"

"Of course. It looks stunning on you! Now let's look at some fabrics."

Ever the fashion plate, it took Kitty the better part of two hours to make her choices, but finally she settled on two more summer styles and three warmer ones with generous sleeves. With Mrs. Wagner's guidance, she understood that the summer dresses could show a peek of cleavage, but the winter ones needed to be a high neckline for warmth. Besides, in those last few months, she was going to be much larger on top, so modesty mattered. This woman knew it all. Secretly she wondered how anyone could buy all new clothing out of a catalog for an event like this.

"Thank you so much!" Kitty hugged Elsie. "I have to run. Need to pick up some tickets at the depot before the window closes."

"Exciting! Well, you have a wonderful trip wherever you're going. I'll have your summer dresses ready by the end of this week, and the winter ones sometime next week."

Kitty picked up her wrapped package, containing everything she'd worn into the shop, and hustled down the boardwalk, then off the end of Front Street to the depot. It was so exciting! A whole new wardrobe! This time Matt Dillon was going to notice. And this time it was his fault!

The line was starting to grow at the ticket window by the time she got to the depot, making her even more glad she was in comfortable clothing. Third in line wouldn't normally have been bad, but the man up at the window couldn't seem to make a decision about what day or time he wanted to travel. All the customers were shifting their weight, looking at each other and rolling their eyes as the clerk explained the choices and price differences for the fourth time. Finally, the dapper looking gentleman behind her in line smiled and spoke.

"I'd be very pleased to hold your package while we wait, Miss."

Kitty smiled back. "Thank you so kindly." She handed her package off.

"I'm George Powers."

"Kathleen," she smiled again. Experience had taught her to be conservative about personal information, and even more so with a child on the way.

"Do you live here?"

"Yes, right here in Dodge. And you?"

"Denver. Just working my way back to Denver."

It was typical ticket line luck. The minute you found someone to chat with, no matter how mundane the conversation, the line cleared out. Boom! Just that quickly, Kitty was at the window, and it was her turn.

"Hello Mike! I'd like a stateroom for two to Denver on October second please." She placed her reticule on the counter and opened it.

"Absolutely! Let me check one thing here." He opened a ledger, seeming to find what he was looking for. "Ah yes! You've not used your complimentary passage yet this year! Now normally I can only offer one per investor per year, but if this is for you and your husband, I'm going to make an exception."

"Yes, Mike. The two of us. Just make sure it's a stateroom. If there's an extra charge, I'm glad to pay for it."

"No, no! I'll hear none of that!" He rooted around under the counter, then produced and filled out two round trip vouchers to Denver, marking "Stateroom 6" on both of them.

"As you know, Stateroom passage includes unlimited visits to the dining car. Unfortunately, we still have only bunks in the staterooms. I hope that will be acceptable."

"It'll be fine, thank you so much."

She retrieved the tickets, folded them and put them into her reticule, then turned behind her.

"Thank you, George," she smiled and took her package from him. "Safe travels." And she walked briskly out of the depot.

"And that beautiful lady was . . ." George asked the agent.

"A shareholder in our railroad, sir."

"But you sure seemed to know her."

"Yes, of course, sir. I know her. She's a businesswoman here in Dodge . . ."

"Kitty! Oh, Kitty!" It was Doc trying to catch up with her as she hustled out of the depot, heading for home. She stopped and turned back.

"Where in tarnation are you off to in such a hurry?"

"Hi Curly! I'm going over to see if Barney has any word from Matt yet. After that, home as a real big appeal."

Distracted ever so briefly, Doc paused and looked her up and down.

"That is just beautiful."

"That?"

"Your new dress, silly woman. It makes you look so . . .so . . ."

"So matronly, right?" But she was smiling.

"Oh pshaw! You're anything but matronly! It makes you look beautiful and loved. Does that make any sense? And I meant what I said, it's absolutely stunning!"

"Well thank you, Doctor. I'll take that as critical acclaim. Elsie Wagner chose it for me for that very reason."

"Let's show it off. How about supper at the Trail Dust at seven. My treat."

XOXOXO

It was every bit of 7:30 when Doc Adams got to the restaurant. He'd been all prepared to apologize for the last-minute office case that had slowed him down, but his date wasn't drumming her fingers on the table. She was in a serious looking debate with the man standing over her at the table. He thought for a minute about waiting at the door, then thought better of it and strode purposefully to the table, ignoring the man. If it was someone Kitty knew and cared about, she'd have invited him to sit. He decided to solidify his position by giving her a kiss on the cheek, then took his seat.

"Doctor Adams, this is George Powers. I met him at the depot today."

"Hello Doctor!" The man wore a broad smile and seemed very confident, even if he'd been forced to stand.

"Mr. Powers was just explaining the error of my ways as an investor."

The man ignored the interruption and went right back to the debate.

"I was only pointing out that the Pacific will own the west in a matter of months. You're a Santa Fe investor. The Santa Fe Railroad is passe. Once our line is finished, the Santa Fe will fade into oblivion. It's all about California, Kathleen!"

"And I appreciate the education, George. But you see, I don't live in California. I live in Dodge. The Santa Fe has been our lifeblood for a lot of years."

"But you can't even get to Denver without going through Pueblo!"

"I think this is where I came in, George. It seems that YOU can't either! As I recall, you were standing in line behind me to buy passage on the Santa Fe to Denver."

"I can't even get passage for two weeks. It's not much of a railroad."

"Ah, I see." Kitty wore a soft smile. "Apparently it's a very busy railroad then!"

"Kathleen, perhaps you and your husband would enjoy a business dinner with me tomorrow at this delightful restaurant. Say seven?"

"I'm sorry, George. We're not available."

Frustrated, George turned to Doc. This was a man he didn't even know, other than by name, but he was looking for a way out of a failed sales pitch.

"Doctor, I'm sure you'd agree. Women are not savvy in matters of investment. They simply can't see the big picture. I hope you'll enlighten your friend."

"Well, Mr. Powers, I'll do my best. Now if you'll excuse us, this lady and I have a dinner date."

"Please re-think my invitation, Kathleen. I'm at the Dodge House."

Without so much as a goodbye, George Powers turned on his heels and strode out of the restaurant. Who was this woman? The ticket agent had said "a businesswoman." There was no such thing. Women were wives and mothers, not businesswomen. She hadn't even given him time to tell her about the beautiful new Pullman cars on the Pacific. The poor thing had to settle for a stateroom with bunks on the Santa Fe. Women simply had no business acumen.

"Kathleen, huh?" Doc had a mischievous grin on his face.

"He's just another salesman, Curly. For some reason I thought it was best he didn't know my last name."

"Maybe it's because you're savvy?" Doc's grin broadened.

"Not savvy enough to know there's no telegraph in WaKeeney, Curly. Barney says there isn't any way to get a wire. I'm really worried about Matt. He should have been home days ago."

"I know that. But we both know he's fine, it's probably just taking longer than he thought up there. I'll talk to Frank and Festus about it after I walk you home. Please, let's enjoy our dinner and talk about something besides the railroad."

XOXOXO

"He should have been back days ago, guys."

"Doc's right, Frankie. It jes' don't feel right."

"Festus, something came up," Frank assured him. "Matt can handle it."

"Fiddle, I know that. But Barney says WaKeeney ain't got no tellygraph so he cain't tell us that. I'm gonna head out first light. It's a two-day ride."

Truth be told, Frank was starting to wonder about Matt, too. Matt's quick request, flat on his back with a bullet in his leg down on Bluff Creek that day, rang in his ears, and it probably would as long as he worked in Dodge. "If anything goes bad, take care of Kitty." He thought about arguing with the hill man, telling him he'd go instead, but he couldn't clear his head. Then Matt's endorsement came back to him. Festus was the best tracker he'd ever known: persistent, dogged, and downright the best he'd ever known.

"All right, Festus. I won't let anything take me out of Dodge till you get back. They don't have a telegraph, but they've got a stage station. When you get to WaKeeney, send a message back on the next stage so we know what's going on."

He knew better than to say "send a note back." A message with the driver would just have to do, and hopefully the driver would understand.

"You kin jes' count on it, Frankie! We got us a plan!"

"Here, Festus, you hand that driver this silver dollar."

"Fiddle, it don't cost no money ta' do a guy a favor, Doc."

"For heaven's sake, it's just a tip. It'll make the driver feel real proud to help. Just do it, okay?"

"Shore as sin, Doc. I shore as sin'll do it."

Alone again and not yet time to leave on rounds, Frank sucked on his coffee and let himself reflect. This was quite the team. There was Matt Dillon, the toughest man he'd ever known, and a legend everywhere west of the Mississippi. He had this trusted friend, an illiterate hill man clever beyond compare, and they'd do absolutely anything to help each other. Then there was Doc Adams, the brilliant old physician who loved Matt like his own son and had skillfully kept him alive against all odds for a dozen years. The ex-con kid Dooley. Yeah, even Dooley. And what about Kitty? She loved the whole bunch of them, and she loved Matt so much that she'd risk bringing a child into the world with him. He'd been invited into this family, rescued from a solitary life in a world full of strangers. He took another sip of his coffee, and just thought about that.

tbc