The Only Man I Can Trust
Chapter 19.
It had been a week since Matt and Chester had left Dodge City to ride to Hays. Kitty knew that Matt didn't usually take Chester on those trips - but as he had told her, Chester had played such a vital part in taking down Carp and the Holcombe brothers that he deserved to go. Besides which, he added, Chester might have to testify if not enough people from Great Bend showed up.
Much to her relief, just as business in the saloon was winding down, two figures on horseback came into view at the far end of Front Street. Their outlines were not much more than shadows in the dim light that escaped from the salons and gambling houses lining the boardwalks, but it was enough for her to recognize the unique masculine shape of Matt Dillon. Chester was right there beside him, his right leg sticking out straight to the side of his horse. As they got closer she could tell that they were both fine, maybe a little tired but in good shape.
She went back inside, not wanting to rush him. Matt liked stop by the stable and take care of the horses before going to the jail and cleaning up a little. In about an hour he would come knocking quietly on her door, before letting himself in.
Her heart was beating a little faster as she helped Sam clean up the bar. Her evening barkeep and loyal friend, Sam Noonan, knew her well enough to detect the subtle change in her face.
"The marshal's back, Miss Kitty?"
"Yes Sam. Both of them look fine."
"That's good, ma'am."
"I'll take care of all the glasses if you sweep the floor. There's not much more business to be had tonight so we'll just close up early."
It was forty-five minutes later when she locked the front doors of the saloon and climbed the stairs. Just enough time left to change out of her work clothes and freshen up a little.
Almost exactly as she had predicted, there came a soft tap on the door. Then it opened and the man she had been waiting for stepped inside. For a moment or two she felt his arms encircle her as they stood there in the only place that ever afforded them a few private moments.
"It's good to be home," he muttered as he buried his face in her hair.
She released herself from his embrace and indicated the settee. "Come and sit down, Matt. I'll fix you a drink." She brought two glasses and handed one over before sitting down beside him. She didn't say anything at first, allowing time for the brandy to help him relax a little. After a few minutes silence, she decided it would be up too her to begin the conversation. "You must have been riding since early this morning." She spoke softly as she touched her hand to his arm.
He looked tired, but there was something else too. She suspected the trial hadn't gone quite as he'd hoped.
A small laugh escaped from his lips, "Well you know Chester. He always wants to get home to sleep in his bed."
"So how did the trial go?" She might as well put the question out there and get it over with.
"Pete Farrell was good. He pretty much told the judge how Tad Holcombe came to town and tried to take it over. Sheriff Hicks and his young deputy were in his way so Holcombe brought in Carp to help get rid of him." He stopped to take another sip of the brandy, but she didn't try to hurry him even though he didn't continue immediately. His eyes were focused somewhere in the distance and it took him a minute or two before speaking again.
"Carp came to town with a couple of hired killers, I think I told you that. They were the ones who did the killing, but Carp and Holcombe were the ones who paid them."
"What about that young woman, Fleur?"
"She was there, and pretty much backed up Farrell's story. She told the court how Carp and his cronies took half of her money every week and beat her if she didn't make enough."
"I've not met her, but I feel sorry for her, Matt. What's she going to do?"
"I think she'll be all right. She and Hugh Tebbers, the man who runs the stable there, travelled to Hays together. They had known each other for quite a while, and somehow discovered that they could become more than just acquaintances. I think there will be a wedding in Great Bend very soon. Apparently she wasn't going to be working at the Red Slipper any more once they got home."
"What happened to Farrell?" she prompted.
"The Judge cut Farrell quite a break after he testified against Holcombe and Carp." Matt stopped to swirl the brandy glass in his fingers. " He sentenced him to two years in prison."
"And Carp and the others?"
"Carp and Tad Holcombe got 20 years a piece. The Judge said there was only circumstantial evidence that they had been involved with the death of the lawmen, so he wouldn't sentence them to hang. Spike had escaped from prison before he arrived in Great Bend so he'll going back for the rest of his life."
He drained the rest of the contents from the glass he was holding. She knew that he was thinking and to give him time, she leaned over to re-fill his drink.
"You're not happy about that, are you?"
"Nope."
"What did that young man do? I think you said Rico was his name.
"He rode up to Hays City with Kegan and his men. After the trial Ben Carver planned to send a young deputy back to Great Bend to keep an eye on things till the town could find themselves a new Sheriff. Rico went back with him. Said he was going to help get Great Bend back on its feet. You know Kitty, that young man, he really looked up to Chester." Matt smiled as he spoke, and Kitty could tell he felt a personal pride in that.
"He could do a lot worse," she agreed with a smile.
While he was talking, he had taken something from his inside vest pocket and was smoothing it out on the coffee table in from of them. Kitty leaned over to look - it was a wanted poster for Red Larson.
"This is one of the men who shot Sheriff Hicks and his deputy. According to Farrell, the other man, name of Harris, is dead." He stopped for a moment and Kitty could almost feel the sorrow he felt. "John was a good man, someone should pay for killing him and his young deputy."
The look on his face said it all. Someday, somehow, he was going to find Red Larson, and Kitty wouldn't want to be in that man's shoes when it happened. There was silence between them again - but it was not uncomfortable or strained.
"How're your ribs doing Matt? You know Doc was quite worried about you riding all that way to Hays."
"Doc fusses too much. He took the bindings off just now, before I came up here. Said he figured they were as healed as they'd ever be."
"Did you ever figure out what happened with the man who was killed on the street."
"No," he answered thoughtfully. "I couldn't find anyone who knew anything about it. Even if I did find out who it was fired that shot, there's not a man in Great Bend who would convict him. I guess it's all over."
She reached for his glass, "Let me get you another drink. It'll help you sleep."
"I don't particularly want to sleep right now. That sure is a pretty robe you're wearing tonight."
"You think so?" She had ordered it from a catalog about a month ago and had been saving it for a special occasion. Now she twirled around so he could appreciate the lace and ribbons that decorated the sleeves.
Being Matt, he blushed a little at her seductive movements. She always thought how endearing it was that a strong, tough man like marshal Dillon could be quite bashful at times.
"It's alright," she leaned in and took his hand. "We're the only ones here and the town has been quiet tonight. Here, let me help you loosen your belt and take your boots off so you can be comfortable."
It had been so long since he had been up here in her room. He and Chester had barely been back in town for three days when the telegram came from Hays, informing him that the trial was about to begin. Immediately he had packed up and left, barely stopping to say goodbye. She knew he wanted someone to pay for the death of John Hicks. The old sheriff had been a good friend to Matt over the years, and for him to be murdered, shot in the back in some dark alley, had really got to him.
Now she was anxious to feel him lying next to her, to feel his breath on her skin and the comfort of his arms around her. Just the two of them, alone in this small sacred space above the Long Branch Saloon. So many nights she had lain here by herself, trying to imagine him beside her, the feel of his face against hers as his lips placed gentle kisses on her mouth.
He was trying to pull his boots off, but grunted as he did so. She leaned over to help.
"Let me do that for you Matt."
He hated to show any weakness, she knew that, but there was only the two of them here.
"There doesn't that feel better?" She had managed to get both boots off and stowed beside the bed.
He was standing up now and took her in his arms once more. The closeness of him made her tremble slightly. It was typical of him that he had washed-up and put on a clean shirt before coming to see her. At the same time she felt deprived of the musty, sweaty oder of the maleness of him, fresh off the prairie. The mixture of his own unmistakeable scent combined with those of saddle leather and the sweet grasses of the prairie, were like an aphrodisiac to her.
"I miss this feeling of being just plain old Matt Dillon," he was speaking slowly, softly, trying to find the words that said how he felt. "No badge, no responsibility. It only lasts for short intervals here and there in our lives, but just to hold you like this, takes away so many of my worries.
She pushed back a little and started to unbutton his shirt. Even though the worst of the bruises had now faded to a yellow tinge, she could see how extensive his injuries had been. It was typical of him that he had said nothing about them. Doc had told her he was in pretty bad shape when he came back from Great Bend and that he needed a lot of rest. She had taken a few meals to the jail for him, but he seemed to want to be left alone.
Now he was back and seemed more his usual self.
"They did a pretty good job on you, Matt." There was hardly an area of skin on his chest that wasn't covered with fading bruises.
"Yeah," he agreed, and for a few minutes it seemed no further explanation was forthcoming. Then almost with a sense of pride he began to tell her how Chester had ridden into town and figured out what was going on, then planned the whole rescue. How the jailer had taken them all to the safety of an old derelict shack. "You should have seen Chester, Kitty. He managed to organize everyone and take care of the prisoners until those deputies arrived from Hays. He even arranged for the train home. I owe him my life."
Kitty smiled, "Then I owe him too, Matt, and I'll be sure to tell him so."
()()()
They were lying side by side on the bed, where they had spent so many wonderful nights. She wanted to be close, to feel his skin touching hers but didn't want to hurt him. He reached over and drew her closer.
"I don't tell you this often enough Kitty, but this part of my life, here with you, is the most precious thing I've ever had."
What could she say? She reached over with her free hand and pushed the dark wayward curls from his forehead.
"Let's see how precious tonight can be, Matt."
()()()
Usually it was Matt who woke up early and left before she was awake, but this morning it was different. Maybe the three glasses of brandy she had plied him with the night before partly accounted for that.
She wasn't sure if Chester would be up yet, but she was certain he would be at the jail.
Dressing quietly, she took a last look at the sleeping lawman. She would have loved to lay there next to him for a while longer but there was something she had to do.
Front Street was remarkably active considering how early it was. Jonas was unlocking his store as she went by. He spoke briefly but wondered why on earth Miss Kitty was up and about at this hour. She was relieved to see a light still burning at the jail and knocked on the door before entering. Chester was there.
"Miss Kitty what are you a' doin' here s' early?" He was somewhat flustered because he was still in his long handled drawers. He began scrambling to pull his pants on and button a shirt over them."Why I ain't even decent for a lady…"
She replied drily. "Don't worry Chester, you're not the first man I've seen this early in the morning." She turned her back and perused an old newspaper on the table so as to give him a little privacy while he finished dressing.
He gave a short forced laugh and was about to speak, but she stopped him.
"Chester, I'm here to thank you. Matt told me all about how you rescued him and saved the town of Great Bend almost single handedly." She turned back around, just as he was arranging his suspenders,
Chester, of course, was blushing vivid red by this time. "Aww shucks, Miss Kitty, I only did what any one else woulda done."
"Matt said you saved his life."
Poor Chester didn't know where to look. He was used to being ridiculed or even ignored, but praise, especially from a woman like Miss Kitty, was something he didn't know how to deal with.
Kitty watched him. She remembered that she used to wonder why Matt kept Chester around. He didn't carry a gun, more often than not he messed things up, but Matt had an unyielding faith in the man, and at times like this she could see why.
"Chester, stop blushing and get your shirt buttoned straight, you got it all crooked. I'm taking you to breakfast."
"But Miss Kitty…" he didn't get to finish his excuse and stood there with his arms flailing. She stepped towards him, fixed his shirt then planted a kiss on his cheek.
She murmured softly in his ear, "That's from me, Chester, for bringing him home safely. I owe you one too."
The jailer's heart was beating so loudly in his ears that he thought she must be hearing it too. He could feel the blush rising in his cheeks and thought it was headed all the away to his toes.
"Come on Chester, let's get going. I don't often get up in time for breakfast, so we're going to make the most of it. My treat."
End
