The Preacher's Wife
Chapter 5
"Wounds from a sincere friend are better than many kisses from an enemy." Proverbs 27:6
She had been instructed to pick up a list of items at the General Store, but Julia Wright knew she had to make a stop first. She couldn't let Kitty think that she had anything to do with this. She had run toward The Long Branch as soon as she saw Frederick disappear into the Marshal's office. Over the batwing doors, she could see Kitty leisurely drinking a cup of coffee at the end of the bar.
She rushed in, out of breath and clearly upset. "Kitty, I have to talk to you."
"What's wrong?" Kitty asked, confused and concerned.
"It's Frederick. He thinks I'm at the General Store. Kitty, he's talking to Marshal Dillon as we speak. He's telling him that he knows about…I mean, that he's going to tell everyone…." Julia couldn't get the words out. She didn't want to sound crude, and more than anything she didn't want to hurt the only person in town who made her feel like she mattered.
"He's going to tell everyone what?" Kitty asked impatiently.
"That the Marshal condones immoral businesses in this town because you pay him with sex," she blurted out uncomfortably.
"That's not true!" Kitty cried, feeling suddenly weak and sick to her stomach. What could he possibly know about her and Matt? Who would tell him such an awful thing?
Julia took a deep breath. The pained look on Kitty's face was almost more than she could bear.
"Kitty, you have to know I don't believe that," she said through tears. "But Frederick saw the Marshal come in here Tuesday night, and he watched the door until he saw him leave—early the next morning. He said there's only one reason for a man to be sneaking out of a woman's room at dawn. "
Her mind was a blur, and she couldn't even remember what day it was. Tuesday night…what were they doing? Oh God, Tuesday night—that was when Matt got back into town. And the next morning, she was hardly awake when he left at dawn. It was true. She had hoped for a millisecond that he was bluffing, but he had seen Matt leaving her place at dawn.
"What you do—that's between you and the Marshal, and maybe between you and God, but it's none of my business," Julia said, sounding as sincere as a person could. "But Frederick is determined to make it his. You've been such a good friend to me, I had to warn you about what he's going to do."
Kitty was still trying to wrap her head around the fact that this man had spied on them, and it almost made her retch. She felt more violated than she had ever felt before, even in her old life. What kind of pervert stays up all night just to watch a man leave her bedroom? This was her worst nightmare—Matt was so insistent that no one know about them, what was he going to do now? Questions were running through her mind so quickly she could hardly think.
"I don't understand," she finally choked out. "Why does he care what we do?"
"Frederick is a paranoid, jealous man," she said. That wasn't news to Kitty—Julia's stories about life with Frederick had given her that impression, though she wasn't sure Julia intended them to.
"People here haven't taken to him at all, and he thinks it's the Marshal's fault," she continued. "It's been eating him up inside that they respect the Marshal more than him, the Marshal not being a churchgoing man and all. Frederick says it's not right that he carries a Bible and people act like he's the devil, while Marshal Dillon carries a gun and people act like he's God. Then I heard those two old bitties who have been helping him collect signatures tell him that there were rumors about you and the Marshal. I guess he figured he might find a way to change things."
Kitty looked pale, and Julia put her arms tightly around her friend. "I had no idea, you have to believe me," Julia begged. "When he left that evening he told me he was meeting with church people to talk about the petitions. He's been doing that a lot lately. I didn't know what to think when he didn't come home all night—to be honest, it was kind of a relief to have him gone."
Kitty was sure this was true. Frederick certainly seemed like the kind of man one would enjoy having gone.
"When he got home yesterday morning he wouldn't tell me where he'd been. I didn't know anything until…I found it." Julia shivered as she remembered the horror of that moment.
"Found what?" Kitty asked, certain she didn't want to know.
"His sermon for Sunday," she said, looking down. "He had locked himself in our room all day. I thought he was sleeping, but it must have taken him hours to write. I found it on the desk when he finally came out to take a bath. It was ten pages long, and I almost couldn't read it. It said…I mean, he called you and the Marshal…" Julia trailed off, looking at Kitty with pleading eyes that said, "Don't make me say the words I saw on that paper."
Kitty stared blankly ahead. So this is how it ends, she thought. As despicable as Revered Wright was, she was even more upset with herself at that moment. She had somehow managed to convince herself that she was good enough for Matt Dillon. Or maybe he was the one who had convinced her, but regardless, she should have known better. She didn't care for herself, her reputation wasn't worth that much. But Matt relied on his reputation to do his job, and that job was his life. Now, barring some miracle, it was going to be destroyed because of her. She wasn't sure how she was supposed to live with that.
"I was so upset I tore it in half, right in front of him," Julia continued to explain. "Frederick was furious. I told him he had no right. 'Judge not, lest ye be judged.' He grabbed my arm and twisted it hard, he said no woman was fit to preach to him. "
The thought of that weasel laying a hand on her sent a chill up Kitty's spine. "Oh Honey, is that what was wrong with your arm in the restaurant last night?" she asked, her own problems taking a back seat to her friend. Julia nodded and put down her shopping sack, rolling up her sleeve to reveal several very subtle bruises around her elbow that were about the size of a man's thumb and fingers. Kitty bit her lip. She had seen marks like that before, she'd had a few herself. But they were supposed to be left by drunk cowboys, not preachers.
"He told me we were going out to dinner to show the town a proper Christian couple," Julia said, sounding almost sarcastic. "Some couple—I'm pretty sure even proper Christian men can make love to their wives." Kitty raised her eyebrows as Julia's cheeks flushed. She had been taught that ladies didn't talk about such private matters—but after what Frederick had done to Kitty, privacy didn't seem so sacred anymore.
Things were slowly starting to make sense. Julia had told Kitty that Frederick had a temper, that he would yell and accuse her of looking at other men. Why, she wondered, would he think that about sweet, innocent Julia? Now she understood. If there was one thing Kitty Russell knew, it was men—what made them tick, and what made them crazy. An emasculated man was like a rabid dog—unpredictable and dangerous. Throw in a desperate need for adulation and a dose of religious fanaticism, and you had a man with disdain for women and contempt for virile, admirable men. In other words, you had Frederick Wright.
Julia saw her shopping sack sitting on the floor and got a sudden look of panic. "I have to go before he sees I'm not at the General Store," she said anxiously as she turned to run out of the saloon.
"Julia, please…" Kitty started, unsure of why she was attempting to stop her from leaving. Julia stopped and turned back, looking at her with a mixture of sorrow and fear.
"Never mind," Kitty said. There was nothing Julia could do. Sunday was two days away. There was nothing anyone could do.