The bullet ripped across his right cheekbone, splintering bone and wreaking havoc with his once handsome face.
Her other bullet had hit him in the upper left shoulder area, but the vain man barely felt it in his distress over his face.
Cole Morgan had loudly broken into the Long Branch, awakening the proprietor, Kitty, who lived upstairs. Slowly making her way down the stairs, revolver in hand, to investigate, she had only fired back after being fired on. Fortunately, his shots had gone wide of the woman standing in the darkness on the stairs.
Doc Adams was brought over at gunpoint to remove the bullet from Morgan's shoulder and to repair his face as much as possible. Later, his wounds covered, Morgan went into Kitty's office to have a drink with her. He could never resist a beautiful woman, and felt he was irresistibly handsome. His group of gunmen were watching over the other hostages they had penned up in the saloon and jail.
Still in her dressing gown, glossy red hair down around her shoulders and tied with a blue ribbon, Kitty looked lovely as she glared at the arrogant man and refused to drink with him. He had made his plans quite clear about facing down the Marshal and the soldiers coming through town with a gold shipment before dawn. Although claiming that the Gatling gun was only a deadly threat to achieve compliance, Kitty doubted that it would not be used. Morgan's men were standing over Newly and Festus in the Long Branch, forcing them to convert the Gatling gun to more standard and available ammunition before a three AM deadline.
Kitty's attitude of strong resistance was shaken when the wounded gunman paused by a wall mirror in her office, peeled the dressing from his face, and saw the jagged, discolored five inch long scar from the top of his right cheekbone down and across his face. She cringed as his shock turned to a hate-filled look in his eyes as they met hers in the mirror.
Smashing the mirror with his fist, he vowed to himself to make the beautiful woman pay. He would scar her in as many ways as he could, starting with her face.
She could hear him muttering through clenched teeth, "Later, Red, later."
Morgan stormed back out to check on the Gatling gun's progress, and Kitty slowly followed. She sat at a table with Jennie, the only other young woman living in the Long Branch, and also brought downstairs in her dressing gown.
"Doc, open that bag of yours and take whatever's necessary to put my face back the way it was." The gunman's voice was frighteningly low and intense.
Doc looked down and sighed. "I can't work a miracle."
"I'll give you ten seconds to see it differently!', Morgan yelled as he broke the top off a whiskey bottle on the edge of the bar, causing Kitty and Jennie to flinch.
"I did the best I could, and personally, I think it was a good job." Doc uneasily rubbed his face as he saw the crazed eyes of the gunman glaring at Kitty.
Morgan suddenly started towards her. She held her ground with an expressionless face masking her fear.
"Maybe you could do a better job on HER!"
Doc hollered and Kitty tried to remain motionless as the raving man waved the broken bottle an inch from her own right cheek.
"You touch her, Morgan, and ain't nothin' on God's earth can make us finish working on this here gun!', Festus yelled, as he had a pistol pointed at his head by one of the other gunmen.
Morgan took in a ragged breath, and stepped back, putting the bottle on the table. He would delay reparation for the sake of the Gatling gun he and his men needed before the gold shipment arrived.
A short time later, Newly and Festus finished their work on the gun and took it out to the street as instructed. Morgan walked over to the end of the bar where Kitty was now standing. He had sent Jennie to bring Kitty back out of her office where she had gone as soon as she could slip away.
"Not afraid, Red? You know I'm not leaving you as happy tomorrow as I found you today. I never leave unfinished business." His eyes roamed over her face and curvaceous body, torn between hate and lust.
Kitty looked at him with distaste and disgust. "You're really a very BORING man!"
Morgan instantly backhanded her across the face.
"You'll find me less boring when your man rides into town!"
He wheeled and stormed away. Kitty rubbed her face and checked to make sure that the loaded shotgun was still in its hidden spot up underneath the back of the bar.
When Matt and the soldiers rode into town an hour later, the Gatling gun had been tested and set up on the balcony outside of an upstairs bedroom of the saloon. Newly, Festus, and Doc were locked away in the jail.
The gun was pointed down the street and Morgan eagerly stood behind it at the ready.
The Marshal had anticipated trouble and rerouted the gold, arriving in town with soldiers guarding an empty wagon. Once this was confirmed, the enraged Morgan began rapidly firing the Gatling at the men on the street. As he paused to reload, Matt ran forward towards the Long Branch entrance, unseen by Morgan. The gunman now stood alone as his men deserted him in the face of the Marshal, soldiers, and no gold to make it worth any risk.
Sensing movement off to his left, Morgan whirled and saw Kitty with the shotgun from the bar, aimed at him through the bedroom window. All she knew was that her Matt was somewhere down there as a target of the madman who was firing that terrible weapon.
Throwing himself through the glass at her, Morgan grabbed the barrel of the gun. He had the choice now of quickly yanking the gun from Kitty and being prepared for the Marshal who he knew was moments away, or getting revenge on the beautiful woman who had scarred him.
He chose revenge. They wrestled with the shotgun, and Morgan cracked the butt of the gun against her right cheek in a hard but glancing blow to begin his reprisal.
The big Marshal kicked open the door, took in the scene in a microsecond, and shot Morgan dead as he swung the shotgun towards him.
Kitty lay stunned across the bed.
"Kitty, are you all right?" Matt had ensured the gunman was dead and then quickly leaned over the bed, putting his hand on her back. He had not seen the blow to her face.
"I'm fine Matt,' she answered in a low voice, still a bit dazed and dizzy.
He took her by the shoulders, feeling something wasn't quite right with her muted response after such a potentially deadly few minutes.
Gently raising her to a sitting position, he sat down beside her, right arm around her, and his big left hand on her upper left arm. She sat staring out towards the street and the scene of the recent shootout where Morgan's men were being rounded up.
"Kitty, are you sure you're all right?" He put his head down close to hers, and his deep voice was low, tender, and full of concern. He would not see her deeply bruised cheek until later in the morning.
The brave woman sat silently looking outside where she had thought Matt would certainly be gunned down by the crazed man with the rapid-fire gun.
She realized that the man's hatred for her and desire to scar her had delayed him enough for Matt to slip from his deadly focus.
Kitty touched her painful cheek and leaned back against Matt's broad chest.
She would have gladly sacrificed her face to save him.
"I'm all right…now."
End.
Epilogue:
Matt wearily made his way up the stairs to Kitty's room two hours later. He had ensured that his friends and town were back to normal, safe, cared-for, and settled. The Army had taken away Morgan's men.
Quietly walking in, he removed his Stetson, boots, coat, gun belt, and clothing. Easing himself down onto the bed, he sat and gazed at his lovely woman, his beloved, his life companion.
She was sleeping an exhausted and uneasy sleep, moaning a little and moving restlessly. As she turned her face towards him, a large, darkening bruise across her right face became visible in the early daylight.
Stunned, the big man automatically reached over and touched her damaged cheek as lightly as possible.
Her sky blue eyes opened in alarm, met his concerned pale blue ones, and half-closed in pleasure.
Reaching out her arms, she pulled him down and they tenderly kissed.
He slipped under the covers and they entwined, her breasts pressed against his broad chest through the thin, silky nightgown. He could feel the tension in her body releasing as she reached over and stroked the stubble along his strong jaw.
They would talk later.