A/N: I know, I know! I'm so sorry this took so long. It got all jumbled in my head until I could bring it around. I think it's pretty well sorted now. What helped was someone finally posted the James Arness segment of A&E's Biography. That sunny grin under that tumble of blond curls ... *swoon* My beautiful giant.

I have no beta. If you see something that needs fixing, feel free to PM me!

~~ Chapter 11

I hooked my fingers into James' waistband and pulled her to me. I chuckled.

"What is funny?" she asked.

"I never thought I'd be taking somebody's pants down for ... this."

James frowned, confused. "What does it matter?" she asked. "I am a woman."

"What I mean is – I know you're a woman – never mind," I said.

I leaned down kissed James deeply, lifting her with my hands on her buttocks. I felt her lips part beneath mine and I waited, letting her lightly explore my mouth with her tongue. After a moment, she moaned softly and her legs came around my waist. Butterflies beat a hurricane in my belly. I staggered a little - not because of the weight of her in my arms.

"Whoa," I gasped. "I need to put you down before I drop you."

"I'm so sorry," James exclaimed. "You still haven't got your strength back." She gripped both my forearms and started tugging me toward the bedroom.

"I'm fine, James."

"You lie down and take a nap first."

"Now you're just making me feel old."

"If you're sure," she said with a worried frown, pressing the inside of her wrist against my forehead.

"I haven't been this sure about anything in a long time."

I walked James backwards into her bedroom and sat her on the edge of the bed. I got down on one knee and brought her fingers to my lips. I gazed at the gold band and stroked across it with my thumb. The ring felt warm and solid and ... permanent.

Permanence – something I chased since I was four years old.

I'd wanted to make Dodge my home but a part of me had always been restless. My sense of duty and need for justice compelled me to make Dodge a safe home for other people. Somewhere deep down, I knew that my peace had to be found somewhere else.

I knew then that that somewhere else was here with this woman, on my knees, like a man praying.

I felt disoriented for a second, as if the world had somehow shifted. The pieces of myself that I earlier felt come apart in my chest drew back together. My heart seemed to stop for a moment then begin to beat again in a different rhythm – slower and steadier than it was before. I sat back on my heels and pulled James into my arms with her legs straddling my lap. I held her tightly.

"I love you, James Anna," I whispered.

She ran her hands over my shoulders and into my hair. The ring scratched bluntly against my scalp in a way that made me shiver. Her lips traveled from my ear, across my cheek to my mouth, her tongue no longer tentative. She leaned back and began to unbutton her shirt. I covered her hands with mine.

"I know you read your anatomy books but there are some things that they probably don't write about." I said.

"Such as?"

"Such as, well, we might not be able to ... you know, the first time," I said.

James gasped and captured my face between her hands. "I knew it," she cried. "You are over-tired. I told you - ."

"That's not what I mean, James. Sometimes, if a woman has never been with a man, it might take a couple of ... tries."

"I believe I understand what you're saying. Not to worry," she said firmly. "I have already explored using my fingers and a hand mirror and –."

"You don't have to explain," I said.

"I could show you."

"Maybe later."

"You are right that my books do not depict female genitalia as meticulously as they do male genitalia," said James.

"I can probably fill in some of the details for you, cowboy," I said.

"Are you sure you're not too tired, because you seem to be taking a long time to get down there."

"What? I'm not -." I sighed. "Let's just start over, here."

I lifted her off my lap and unto the edge of the bed, gripped the hem of her pants and dragged them down her slim hips, peeling off her long jonny in the process. The bed was narrow so I remained kneeling on the floor.

I gently opened her legs with my hands on her knees. Her skin was soft from the oil she'd rubbed into it after her bath. Her slender legs were firm with muscle, as sleek and dark as polished wood. I started from her knee with kisses, little licks and nips, up to the tender hollow where the inside of her thigh met the mound of her sex. I ran my fingers through the sparse soft curls that were so different from Kitty's, whose bush was bright and dense and covered her sex entirely.

I lifted James's knees to her chest so that she was completely open to me. I could see the center of her, wet and startlingly pink amid the dark folds.

I looked up at James. She was propped on her elbows and staring down at me with intense curiosity. I knew she was going to watch everything I did so to forestall the inevitable questions, I figured that I would just explain everything as we went along.

"I'm going to – it's like a kiss," I said. "It feels good. It will make you ... ready for me."

James exhaled softly. "Okay," she breathed.

I stroked my tongue lightly along the length of her sex, and then pressed my lips softly against her bud. I lifted my eyes to James and asked a question with raised brows.

James nodded, shivering a little.

I got down to the business of meticulously educating her on various parts of "female genitalia" using my lips and tongue and fingers. I don't know how much time passed. I barely remember taking off my own clothes. I sat back on my heels after leaving her trembling and gasping for the third time. I rubbed the back of my head.

"I think you pulled out a chunk of my hair," I said, grinning.

"I didn't know that would happen," she gasped. "I felt like I was falling and falling! Does it feel like that for you?"

"I guess it does feel like falling, more or less, depending."

"Depending what?"

"A lot of things. If I'm hungry or tired or sick." I brought her foot to my lips and kissed her instep. "Who I'm with."

"Will it be good with me?"

"It will always be good with you."

"What you did to me…what is it called?"

"I won't repeat what I've heard it called," I said. I paused. Incredibly, I felt a blush bloom on my cheeks. "In Pawnee it's 'ta tsa'paat kiit'su -roughly translated into "to lap from the spring like a doe."

"You did not lap me like a doe, Matt."

"I'm not Pawnee," I chuckled.

"We have not officially ... consummated."

"I think this counts."

"I shall like you to do it every day."

I gazed with amusement at her very serious face. "I'll do my best," I said.

I stood from my kneeling position at the side of the bed. "Right now, I'm going to add those potatoes to that rabbit stew."

I pulled on my pants and padded barefoot into the kitchen. As I tended to the stew, I found myself thinking that sandier ground would yield bigger potatoes than the pitiful ones I dropped whole into the pot.

I was also softly singing run Rabbit run/the dog's gonna catch ya/run Rabbit run/you better get away.

I lit a lamp and opened the door to see if the snow was getting too deep to walk in without snowshoes. Mortimer stood stiffly on the porch staring intently into the trees.

I blew out the lamp and blinked into the darkness. It had stopped snowing but I couldn't see much beyond the tree line, twenty yards away. I watched Mortimer sniff the air. He cocked his head at the trees, chuffed low in his chest then sniffed again. He looked up at me then turned with the dog equivalent of a shrug and ambled into the house. I peered into the dark. After a full minute, it came to me that I wore neither shirt nor shoes in the freezing wind and would incur the wrath of James should she see me. Also, even with the lamp out, I made a large and clear target, silhouetted by the light inside the house.

I closed the door and watched Mortimer drink from his dish of water by the fireplace. He was a good farm dog – protective of James and the other animals. He'd marked a territory in a wide semi-circle around the farm that James said even the wolves wouldn't cross. If he wasn't concerned, maybe I should not have been either.

But my years as a lawman told me to trust my senses and to always err on the side of caution. I barred the door, placing the thick, rough-hewn board in the heavy iron hooks embedded in the stone wall. I strode into the bedroom.

"Get dressed, James – in pants."

"What is it, Matt?"

"Probably nothing. And hide your hair under your hat."

James slipped of the bed and did as I said, watching me with wide eyes as I shrugged into my shirt. We both jumped when Mortimer barked loudly, twice.

"Matt -."

"Quiet," I hissed. James flinched and blinked up at me. "Stay here," I said more gently. "If things get … rough, go out the window, run to the barn."

"I won't leave you."

"You take Buck ride to Fort Hardy."

"No," said James.

She had that steely look in her eyes, like the time she pointed the buffalo gun at my head. She was as calm and still. Here was the gunman I saw in her that first day.

I went into the other room and came back with her rifle.

"Go to the pantry and stay there," I said. "Hide behind the water barrels." She could still slip out the back if things went sour. She nodded once but didn't move.

Mortimer snuffled at the crack under the door, whining softly. He didn't bark again.

"I'm going to be plenty embarrassed if it's just a snow hare," I whispered.

A horse whinnied in the dooryard. James raised her brows.

I eased over to the door and got my gun. There was the muffled thud of boots on the porch stairs.

There was a long moment when the only sound was the wind in the eaves and the snap of the fire. Mortimer reared up and put his paws on the door. His tail was up and his ears were pricked but he was quiet.

"Who's there?" I called.

"Please. Could I trouble you to put up me and my horse in your barn?"

An outlaw would ask to come in the house.

"How many are you?" I asked loudly.

"Just me. I'm alone."

Even through the thick door I could tell he spoke through chattering teeth. The voice was not that of a young man. I felt some of the tension leave my body but I cocked my gun and pressed against the wall when I lifted the door bar. I cracked the door. Mortimer stuck his big head through, his tail wagging.

"Hey, fella," said the man. "I never met a dog that could talk."

I swung the door open. The man on the porch was swaddled in blankets secured to his body with a thin rope around his shoulders. His hat was held low on his head by a tattered wool muffler knotted under his chin. He shivered violently. I stepped back so the light would fall on his face. Blue eyes sparked under bushy brows. My mouth actually dropped open.

"Doc?" I croaked.

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