Twenty-four
He dropped to his knees. Memories inundated his consciousness, flooding his senses. In his mind he heard the echoing blast of gunfire, smelled the acrid smoke. His throat and nostrils burned from the recall. Beating in his brain were the anguished cries of the men who'd died by his bullet.
The evil he'd witnessed in his life outweighed ten-fold the good he'd known, for he'd seen war and fought injustice since he'd been old enough to lift his father's gun. The pain in his head the night before, now lodged deep in his heart, his soul was heavy and the burden was more than a mere mortal could be expected to carry. He fell forward, burying his face in the soft folds of Kitty's clothes.
His identity and history attacked him with repeated blows. Matt Dillon, Texas Third Infantry, Matt Dillon, Marshal Matt Dillon, Dodge City, Kansas, Matt Dillon. Dodge City, Gomorrah of the Plains. Front Street and the back alleys down by the red light district came alive, as every villain he'd ever faced marched through his mind like some macabre Machiavellian parade.
But even as he faced the evil, even as he longed to run, to hide, to deny he'd ever known their existence, distant vows of oath reverberated in his soul, becoming louder and stronger until they all but drowned out the need to flee.
"Bound by honor and duty, I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of United States Marshal on which I am about to enter. So help me God."
Bound by honor. His fingers wrapped around the badge, the star, ensign of knightly rank, the hallmark of honor. His fragile body grew muscle, like the lifting of a sorcerer's curse; he felt might and zeal surge through his being. Honor bound to duty and the badge. He pulled himself up, the bedpost his staff. Courage and purpose became his support and he released the hold - to stand tall and valiant, noble and true.
GS GS GS GS GS
Charlie Yeoman pulled his rig to a standstill in front of the little house on Lincoln and set the brake. He made a move to get down so he could assist Kitty, but she stopped him, "No need." She said as she lowered herself to the street. Once there, she adjusted her clothing, and squared her shoulders.
The butcher leaned over the side of the wagon, and spoke to her in a quiet voice; "You spend the afternoon at Summerhaven, like we talked about. Make note of anything that seems remotely suspicious. I'll be by tomorrow morning around 8:00. You can tell me what you found out then."
Her lips turned inward, to hold back the words she wanted to scream at him. Instead she answered with a silent hateful stare.
"If anything urgent comes up." He said, pulling a faded red bandanna from his back pocket, "tie this here to the newel post on the porch."He held the red cloth out to her. She eyed it, weighing her alternatives, and it was several moments before she grabbed it from Yeoman. Without further word, she turned her back on him and walked up the path to the cottage. She passed Lilly standing on the porch, "You okay, Ma'am?" she asked and grabbed Kitty's arm with her hand.
"What's it to you?" Kitty responded.
Lilly released the hold; her voice was lower than usual, "I don't want nothin' bad to happen to you."
Kitty gave a sardonic chuckle, "A little late for that, now isn't it?" She pushed Lilly out of her way, and entered the cottage. The`ten-day girl', followed close on her heels. Kitty stopped in her tracks and spun around, facing Lilly head on, "Leave me be."
Startled, Lilly took a step back, "If'n that's what you want."
"That's the least of what I want - but the most I'm likely to get." Her beautiful face was almost ugly with despair. A need strong and indefinable compelled her to be with Matt or what was left of him, to draw what meager strength she might from his weakened reserve. She walked to the kitchen and then to the little hall, which led to the bedrooms. Looking towards Matt's room first, she saw the bed , she took a step forward, but then heard the squeak of floorboard and bedpost and turned in surprise to look in the opposite direction. There she saw him, hallowed by sunlight. Immediately, instinctively, she knew he'd come back - not to her, as she might have hoped but to honor and to the badge. For he could not love her as much as he did, loved he not honor and the badge more.
He said her name and she ran to him, falling into his open arms. They held together tight. No words were spoken. Her head, pressed against his beating heart, by hands so strong, there was nothing; she was certain, that could defeat them. His chin rested atop her flaming hair and he inhaled the sweet scent that was uniquely her, breathing in the courage, she would have denied she possessed. Each drawing upon the other until they both felt fit to face the battle ahead.
She drew a shaky breath, and he spoke, "It's alright Kitty, it's going to be alright." She turned her head to look up into his face and accept his lips in a kiss, which sealed the promise.
They remained together until Lilly entered the room; even then, though the embrace had ended, they remained connected.
"Are you back with us Matthew?" Lilly asked, with a voice, which seemed to belong to someone else.
"I'm back Frankie … I'm back."