Four

Marcy kept her voice low but urgent, "Honey chile, how'd you git outa your room? I dun locked the door on you. You jus hurry on up them stairs now, it wouldn't do us no good to have Massa Johnston find you in his kitchen. Hurry on now, I'll be up directly with something warm to fill your belly."

"But …"

"No buts, you just go on and do like I tells you."

Still, she hesitated but Macy gave her a push in the direction of the stairs. "I is coming too, just as soon as I get some porky puddy pie warmed up fer you."

Like a caged animal, she paced the room her body pulsing with the fuel of anxious energy. It seemed to take forever for Macy to come up the stairs. She knocked softly at the door, and Kitty let her in. The maid set the tray on the bed and motioned for Kitty to start eating. Shaking her head and hardening her eyes, she refused, "Uh uhhhh, I want some answers first. I've been mighty patient with all this foolishness." She shook her head reflecting, "A man I've never met before, pulls a gun on me in my own room, and says Matt Dillon needs me, well I've traveled half way across the country by every means imaginable. I've lost track of how long I've been gone. I've been shaken and soaked, half starved and locked in this tiny cell of a room, and now, I want some answers and if I don't get them, I'm gonna start screaming and I don't think you want that do you Miss Macy?"

Macy smiled, "They dun told us you weren't no parlor style of Kittycat and they was right. But you just settle down some, and I'll give you answers, at least what I knows about. Tomorrow night, a gent'man named Mr. Homer Wilcox is gonna fetch you. You is gonna ride up to Davis Port, that's halfway twixt here and Washington, DC. Once you is there, he gonna take you to see the man you dun traveled all this way to meet. You is right about one thing, it wouldn't do us no good ifn' Massa Johnston was to find out you is here. And if'n he does, if you knows what's good fer you and what's good for that man of yours, you best keep your mouth shut. You hear?"

Kitty nodded, "You've left me with more questions than when I started. But if you're saying Matt is alive and I'll see him soon, well, that's good enough for now. I'm curious, what am I supposed to do until tomorrow night?"

"Well for starters you can finish up that pork puddy I dun brung up fer you , and then get some mo' sleep. And tomorrow we is gonna get you cleaned up. Girl, you ain't had a good bath in a long while, has you?"

GS GS GS GS GS

She slept till mid morning the next day; she had suspected Macy had doctored up her pork puddy pie, for she had taken less than half the bowl when a wave of grogginess washed over her.

Macy must have timed her cooking well, because Kitty had no sooner opened her eyes and stretched, when there was a knock on her door followed by the sound of a key in the lock.

"Well, you is looking some better honey. I gots a tub of water waiting for you down the hall. If you is quick about it no one'll bother you."

The bathroom was finer than any Kitty had ever seen. The huge claw footed tub was porcelain, and the fixtures shiny brass. The floor was laid in large black and white Italian tiles and from the elegant hand painted china holders hung lavishly thick Turkish towels in snowy white and decorated by an elaborately embroidered "J". It was a shame she couldn't enjoy the luxury, but Macy's warning that she might be discovered hastened her pleasure. Still, she felt considerably better after the experience.

"I dun washed your clothes, even them that was in your carpet bag honey, you been through some mean dirt to get here, ain't you?"

Her clothing would never dry by the evening, "What am I supposed to wear'?" Kitty asked in distress.

"I got some of Mrs. Johnston's clothes down from the attic for you. They was last years, and I don't reckon she'll miss 'em none." Macy caught the alarm in Kitty's eyes, "She's down in Charleston honey, visiting her sister, won't be back for a long spell." With Macy's help, Kitty looked over the gowns from Mrs. Johnston's last year's wardrobe. The length was fine, but the waistline was a little too generous and Kitty's bosom too robust for the clothing's proportions. "We is gonna have to bind you in some to get them dresses lookin' proper. Mr. Homer Wilcox says he wants you looking like a fine lady. I'll pack a sewing basket. You do knows how to use a needle and thread, doncha chil'?"

"I can take in and let out, sew hems, and tack on bric-brac and buttons."

"You'll do fine then."

By nightfall, she was dressed in a dove gray wool gown with pearl buttons down the bodice and Irish lace trimming the cuffs and neckline. It was as proper a gown as Kitty had ever worn. She had a wool tapestry shawl in shades of blue and purple draped around her shoulders. Her red hair was slicked back and wrapped in a silk latticed chignon, and on her head she wore a small gray bonnet decorated with a jaunty mauve colored plume, fine gray netting hid her eyes. The only things she could claim as her own were the small diamond studs in her ears; a gift her favorite admirer had paid dearly for.

She was excited at the prospect of seeing Matt; she must be very close now. She couldn't help but wonder why she had to look so proper and a nervous feeling she was being made an unwilling partner to this charade prevailed. Jojoba led her out the back door just as the first stars were popping in the early twilight. They walked down a path, which took them away from the main gate.

"Watch your step there Missy, we don't wants you fallin' in the rose bushes and getting yourself all scratched and scuffed afore Mistah Wilcox sees you." They came to a smaller gate on the property about two hundred yards down from the main entrance. Jojoba took a key from his pocket and opened it up. "I gots to be getting back. Massa likes me to be right by him all de time, if'n I ain't he gets a might aggravated. We don't wants Massa getting aggravated."

"Wait a second." She hissed. "You're not just leaving me out here?"

"No'm, I ain't. Mr Wilcox will be along directly." He set down Mrs. Johnston's two large carpetbags, filled with a small wardrobe of fine clothes.

"But …" She sputtered.

Having lost patience with her, Jojoba locked the gate between them, "You jus quit your fussing and wait nice like. You is s'posed to be a proper lady."

She was alone again, there was a chill in the air and she wrapped the shawl around her shoulders a little tighter. Leaning against the wrought iron fence she crossed her arms over her bound bosom and waited, tapping her foot in frustration and wondering what she was going to do if Mr. Wilcox failed to show, and what she was going to do if he did.

For whatever reason, the timing between the participants of this elaborate web Kitty had been drawn into had impeccable timing. For she'd no sooner felt the first waves of trepidation, when a carriage came down the road. The coachman, wearing a dark jacket with brass buttons stopped in front of her. Applying the break, he jumped from his seat. With a flourish, he opened the door and motioned her inside. He loaded her baggage in the boot while she settled herself in. It was only after the door closed that she realized she wasn't alone.

A flick of a match lit the face of the man seated opposite her; she jumped and then quickly regained her composure. "Mr. Wilcox, I presume." By the brief light of his matchstick she could make out the features of her companion. Indeed he was one of the men who had talked with Matt back in Dodge.

"I hope you don't mind if I smoke." He said as he applied the match to the tip of a cigar and took a few hard drags on it before continuing. "Miss Russell, I apologize for what we've put you through this past week."

"Mister, I've been through hell for the past six months, and It's gonna need more than fancy words to make up for that. Where's Matt Dillon?"

He chuckled, I'm getting to that, but first, I think you should be aware the path we're on could lead to danger. If you feel you'd rather not be a part of this, I can fully understand. I'll take you to the train station and buy you the ticket home to Dodge City or wherever you prefer to go."

"Where I want to go is where Matt Dillon is."

His words reflected a smile. "I figured you'd see it like that Ma'am. We're traveling to Saint Vincent's County Asylum for the Mentally Insane. Not a pretty place, I hasten to add. Dillon's been a patient there for nearly a month."

For a moment she couldn't speak. She couldn't breathe. "Matt … insane asylum? I don't understand?"