August 2015

Decisions and Desires

Prologue

Matt Dillon stood looking down at the shallow grave where he had just buried one of the most evil men he had ever known. The air had been still but out of nowhere he felt a cold wind blow across the prairie. It seemed to be accompanied by a maniacal laugh, almost as if, from beyond the grave, the murderer was mocking him. Matt knew it was his fault that five more people had died. He'd had Ronnie Pickens in his custody but allowed him to escape and murder yet again. Those deaths would forever be on his conscience. He turned away, still feeling the unusual chill in the air. It would be a long ride back to Dodge City.

Chapter One

Several weeks later

Kitty Russell, owner of the Long Branch saloon, looked at the clock on the wall just before she climbed the stairs. It was almost 3.30 in the morning. Far too late for decent folks to still be up and around.

The last of the season's trail herds had arrived in town a few days ago and already most of those Texas cowboys had left and headed home. A few of them even had money left in their pockets.

For Kitty it had not been a good season. There had been nothing wrong with business. Cattle drives brought a lot of money into Dodge and the bars and saloons always profited more than most from the drovers being in town. The Long Branch, which had a reputation for having the prettiest girls, the best whisky and the coldest beer, had no problem attracting customers. As far as business went Miss Kitty Russell should be feeling very happy right now, but it wasn't business that was worrying her.

She climbed the staircase from the saloon to the upstairs landing then turned to the right towards her small suite of rooms which lay behind the curtain at the end of the hallway. As had been the case for much of the spring and summer months, those rooms were a quiet and lonely place. She closed the door, almost with a slam, and sat on the chaise to remove her shoes. Carefully she massaged her weary feet, thinking of other, stronger hands that had done that for her so many times before.

The empty bed glared at her and if Kitty Russell had been a woman prone to crying, tears would have been rolling down her cheeks. At first she thought it had all been her fault, but then reality had set in and she realized that it needed two people to make an argument. Actually "argument" was a polite word for what had happened.

Matt Dillon, the United States Marshal headquartered in Dodge City, and Kitty Russell, owner of the Long Branch Saloon, had had a long standing arrangement. It was so obvious that, although Dillon had denied it on many occasions, all the residents of the town and most of the drifters who passed through, had a good understanding of the situation between the two people.

This year almost twice as many cattle drives had arrived in Dodge than ever before. Of course all the store owners along Front Street were happy about that statistic, but for Dillon it had meant weeks of sleepless nights and hectic days. It had started with him spending two weeks on the Republican River tracking down a murderer by the name of Ronnie Pickens. He only just got home from that when he had to make three trips escorting prisoners to Hays and Topeka.

That alone had been enough to exhaust any man, but then the cattle drives started arriving. He rarely had time to stop by the Long Branch for more than a brief hello and the number of nights he had been able to spend in Kitty's company could be counted on the fingers of one hand. He had become irritable and quick to pick a fight. Even the trail hands who knew him from previous years had commented on the fact that the marshal had very little patience and was not the person they remembered.

It was a week ago when he returned from a trip to Wichita. He had been gone for 5 days to testify in a murder trial. The train journey seemed to have worn on him more than traveling by horseback. She figured that was because it brought him into close contact with other people and denied him the recuperative effects of being alone out there on the prairie.

She remembered her excitement on the evening he had returned. He came to the Long Branch all smiles and happy to be home. Two nights later everything had changed. He was being sent down to the Nations to find and arrest three men who had robbed a bank in Cimarron. They had escaped from the local jail, killing the sheriff and his deputy in the process and so far had eluded all efforts to recapture them.

"But Matt, can't you ask them to send someone else. You've only been back for 2 days. You've hardly been in town for the last 3 months and even when you are here you're busy keeping drunken cowhands from killing each other. You need a rest Matt, maybe a vacation, even Doc said you look sickly."

He had looked at her, as if noticing her for the first time.

"It's none of Doc's business." He looked more irritated than ever after that comment, and she thought for a moment he was about to turn and leave. He forced himself to take a breath and try to sound more reasonable.

"It's my job Kitty, I can't ask for someone else to do it. You know that."

"I know that you're worn out. You need a break. I've hardly seen you all summer."

"You know how it is, I told you years ago. This is my job."

"Well, what difference would a day or two make. Candy Johnson is getting married day after tomorrow and they're having a big celebration. I kind of thought we could go together. It would be a fun evening with food and dancing…."

"Stop. I told you long ago, Kitty, my job has to come first. There are 3 men wandering around down there who need to be in jail before they kill anyone else."

"But Matt.." she began, but he interrupted her before she could say anymore.

"No, I can't."

She could see an anger coming to his face. It was a look she had never seen before.

"Matt," she had tried to approach him, to touch him, to calm him down.

"Don't ask me again!"

She had never heard him raise his voice to her before and stood back unsure what to do.

"I've decided I'm going, so that's that."

"You are being unreasonable, and .. and .. pig headed." She was so hurt and taken back that she couldn't think of words to say.

He turned back to the door and placed one hand on the knob, with the other he slammed his hat on to his head.

"I don't know how long I'll be gone," were his parting words.

After the door slammed shut, she had thrown herself on the bed, punching the pillow in anger at herself and at the man she thought she knew better than anyone else in the world.

ooo000ooo

Kitty Russell had a stubborn streak almost as wide as the one Matt Dillon carried. She did not go down to the stable the next morning to see him leave. That turned out to be just as well because according to Moss Grimmick he had set out the night before. It must have been right after he left her. They had parted in anger, was the thought that sat uppermost in her mind.

At first she felt guilty, hoping he wouldn't be so distracted by the harsh words they had shared, that he would not be watchful. Then she felt angry. All those years ago she had stayed in Dodge on a whim after seeing the tall handsome marshal in Delmonico's. As time passed she thought they had become close, having reached a common understanding, but this summer things had changed. She knew he was overworked and tired much of the time. She also knew he missed Chester working around the office. Since his assistant had left he had a lot of extra things to do. Sure, he hired Louis to clean the place up every now and again and had even requested a temporary Deputy, but so far no one had shown up. That hill man Festus Hagen had been hanging around as well, but Matt still seemed a little unsure of him.

These last few months he came to her bed when he was in town and was not having to sleep at the jail, but sadly it had started to seem that that was all there was. He would come back to town and come to her room, or turn up at one o'clock in the morning, with one thing on his mind. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy his night time attentions but there had always been more to their relationship than that. She enjoyed just being with him, the occasional meals in Delmonico's and very rarely a fishing trip to Silver Creek, even chatting by the bar in the Long Branch. It had been months since any of those things had happened. Looking back on it she wondered if he still cared about her for anything except the bedroom.

ooo000ooo

There was one Texan still hanging around. His name was Arlo Johnson and he was trail boss for the Circle B. He had brought two herds to Dodge City that year, one at the very start of the season and now this one which arrived a few days ago and was the last. The man was approaching his fortieth birthday and planned to retire from a life on the trail and settle down. This had been a final push for him, and it meant he would have enough money to plan his future.

Like another man she knew, Johnson had never married. He said this was because he thought no good woman would put up with him being gone for at least three or four months every year. Now he had found a nice spread near the South Platte, and was looking around for some stock to start his own ranch. He was also looking for a wife although he had kept that intention to himself.

The first time she had met Arlo was three years ago when he brought a herd into town. He seemed to know Dillon, from previous times, but neither man was willing to discus how that acquaintance had come about. It had been Matt who introduced him to her.

Johnson was a rugged looking man. His green eyes always seemed to be focused somewhere in the distance, probably from spending so much time on the prairie. His brown hair was shaggy and a little too long when she had first seen him, but after a bath and a visit to Mr. Teeters she could see that the green eyes and brown hair complemented the weathered look of his face. He stood about six feet tall, well above the average cowboy, but still a half head shorter than the marshal.

The man returned to the Long Branch every year after driving at least 3000 head of beeves up from Texas. He was always pleasant to be around and kept his drovers in good order. He was known to be a good boss to work for and paid his men a little above the standard rate, but he let them know that they would work hard and not be hired back on the next drive if they didn't respect the law in town. He didn't want any trouble in Dodge City.

Dillon had had to leave just a day after that final trail herd arrived. He had been worried about being gone from town with the drovers being there, but this was the last herd coming in for the season and Arlo had assured him that his men would not cause trouble. The trail boss had even taken it upon himself to visit every saloon in town and inform the owners and barkeeps to call him if there was a problem with any of his crew and he would sort it out.

He had been true to his word and now with only two or three cowboys left in town, he spent much of his time in the Long Branch. Kitty had found him to be good company. He had a quick sense of humor and was easy to talk to. She had introduced him to the four girls she had working the floor these last few evenings. He talked with each of them and bought them a drink or two, but as the evening wore on he always found his way to where Kitty was sitting at a table or helping behind the bar.

He had watched her, dealing with drunken cowboys, crooked gamblers and pushy whisky drummers. She seemed always to be in control and well able to handle whatever saloon life threw at her. He had realized a year ago that he was strongly attracted to her, but at first he was concerned that Kitty Russell was already taken.

He had watched Dillon and could see there was a deep friendship between the marshal and the saloon owner, but he never saw anything to indicate more than that. He had even worked up nerve to ask him, one time, if there was anybody special in his life. Matt had given his usual response that a lawman had no business with personal relationships because the job was too chancy. Johnson figured that meant he could go ahead and court this fine lady.

TBC