Haunted Heart

A Gunsmoke Story

By Amanda (MAHC)

"In the night though we're apart,

There's a ghost of you within my haunted heart.

Ghost of you, my lost romance,

Lips that laughed, eyes that danced.

Haunted heart won't let me be,

Dreams repeat a sweet but lonely song to me.

Dreams are dust, it's you who must belong to me,

And thrill my haunted heart.

Be still, my haunted heart."

"Haunted Heart"

1948

Lyrics: Howard Dietz

Music: Arthur Schwartz

Chapter Three: He's a Lawman

POV: Hannah

Spoilers: "The Badge;" "The Disciple"

Rating: PG-13 (Teen)

Disclaimer: I did not create these characters, but I love to play with them (especially Matt).

XXXX

The sun had nearly burned off the cool of the morning when Hannah pushed open one of the Long Branch's swinging doors and leaned against it to watch her new town wake up. The milk wagon had passed through earlier than the saloon owner cared to rise, but she was still able to watch the merchants as they strode briskly to work, raising shades and opening doors and inviting their customers to support the local economy. Her own profits, as promised by Kitty Russell, had been quite satisfactory, and she decided that she was going to like this place right well.

Even before she bought the Long Branch, she already had a passing familiarity with the busy town. After all, who hadn't heard of Dodge City? And the same could be said for Marshal Matt Dillon, who had earned himself a place in the annals of history with deeds that bordered on myth. Legend had made him out to be a giant of a man, fearless, intrepid, and virtually unmatched in his skill with a firearm.

Now Hannah could compare that larger-than-life persona with the very real man she had met the day before. And reality was a bit different from myth. From the embellishments of the journalists who wrote about the wildness of the West, she had expected a man who lived such a rough life to look more like a grizzled buffalo hunter, burly and unkempt. After meeting Kitty Russell, though, she couldn't quite reconcile that vision with someone the beautiful saloon owner would keep company with. His arrival had confirmed her second guess. In that first moment of introduction, as she let her gaze travel up his tall body, she had been more than pleasantly surprised to find herself scanning over long legs, firm waist, strong chest, broad shoulders, and a pair of expressive sky-blue eyes. Hannah had never set much store on appearances, but she'd have been lying if she didn't admit that Matt Dillon was a fine looking man. This was certainly no buffalo hunter.

As far as him being fearless and intrepid, she had no doubt he was when facing thieves and murderers, but when facing the hard news she had to give him, he couldn't hide the terror behind those intense eyes. The sight of such a powerful man emotionally pole-axed was something she'd never forget.

XXXX

"Kitty's gone," she had told him, even though it made her heart ache to do it.

She didn't think she could have stunned him more if she had slugged him between the eyes with the butt of the rifle Floyd kept under the bar. Weeks on the trail had left him with a deep tan, but suddenly he paled beneath it, and his jaw slackened in shock. If she hadn't already known what his relationship had been with Kitty Russell, she would have realized it then.

It wasn't long, though, before she got a glimpse of the strength of the man. Lowering his head, he dragged the mantle of marshal back around his shoulders, waited a beat longer as it settled in place it, then looked back up, face as composed as a professional gambler's. Taking a breath, he pressed his hands against the counter, leaning forward.

"Where'd she go?" he asked, voice even, steady.

But no amount of self-control could hide the pain in his eyes, which pleaded and demanded at once. Although she had never been short on nerve, Hannah had to swallow twice before answering him. Even then, it took every skill she possessed from years of card playing to hold onto her bluff.

"I don't know."

She thought she saw panic flicker across his face, but it disappeared almost as soon as it appeared. Dillon's brow drew down, and he leaned in closer. "Where?"

Hannah could only shake her head, too full of guilt and regret over what this man was suffering to say the words again. For a moment, he looked as if he were about to be sick. But just as quickly, the shoulders straightened, and the head came back up, and the eyes hardened. Jaw tight, he stepped back from the bar and nodded.

"If you hear anything, I would appreciate – "

"I'll let you know," she finished.

He held her gaze another few moments, then, out of habit, tugged courteously at the brim of his hat and walked out. As the doors swung on their hinges, she turned back to Floyd and found him watching her, his expression a mixture of sympathy and curiosity.

XXXX

The morning streets of Dodge waved back into focus as the memory faded. Sighing, she was just about to step back inside the saloon when she noticed the very man she had been thinking about cross from Doc's office to the jail, his long stride thrown slightly off by a noticeable limp. It made sense that after twenty years of marshalling, he would have acquired enough injuries to account for any number of physical discomforts. She noted that his hat was pulled low over his eyes, and he kept his head down as he walked. If she had to guess, she'd lay odds he was nursing a hangover. He didn't seem much like the drinking type, but she figured after yesterday he certainly had reason.

Her eyes followed his path until he disappeared into the jail, ducking slightly as he walked through the door. She could certainly understand what had drawn Kitty Russell to him, but she still wasn't completely sure what had pulled her away. Oh, Kitty had told her the story, had explained why she had to go, but Hannah still felt there must be more to it, more to the destruction of a relationship that had weathered so many years before. He loved her, she had seen that in his eyes, had watched him react as if she had slapped him in the face when she told him Kitty was gone.

Shaking her head, she stopped at the bar to pour herself a small shot of whiskey, then walked back to her office and sat at the very table she and Kitty had used over three weeks earlier.

XXXX

It had been a quick transaction, no dickering. Kitty was ready to sell, Hannah offered a generous price, and they completed the agreement in one day, sealing the deal with a handshake, evidence of their intrusion into what was a male-dominated world of business. Hannah had to admire what Kitty had built. The Long Branch was a first class establishment. When she inquired about the reason for selling, though, she had gotten a vague answer about needing to move on, to try new things. But the pain behind Kitty's blue eyes did more than hint at a deeper reason.

Sitting in the back office, sharing coffee and completing the paperwork, it hadn't taken long for Hannah to run right into that reason.

"Things get rowdy in th' evenin's?" she had asked, already knowing Dodge's reputation.

Kitty smiled and sighed. "Sometimes. Nothing I'm sure you can't handle."

"But if it gets out of hand," Hannah wanted to know, "can I count on the law to help me out?"

A shadow crossed the younger woman's face, and Hannah wondered suddenly if she should hold up on signing the final bill of sale. If she didn't get support from the authorities –

But Kitty took a breath and assured her, "You won't have any problem with Ma – with the marshal."

"Marshal Dillon. I've heard about him. He as good as they say he is?"

This time, the eyes unfocused and looked past Hannah, thoughts obviously no longer in the present. Her face changed from sad and tense to soft and tender. Intrigued at what had brought about that transformation, Hannah remained silent until the trance broke, and Kitty blinked.

With a private smile, she answered quietly, "Yes. He is."

Hannah wasn't sure they were still talking about keeping the peace. Brow lifting, she studied the other woman closely, suddenly understanding what – or who – the deeper reason was. "Does he know you're leaving?" she asked bluntly.

Taken by surprise, Kitty couldn't wipe her face clean fast enough to make any pretense at not understanding the question. After a moment, she let her gaze drop, took a sip of coffee, swallowed, and shook her head. "No."

"Well," Hannah told her, placing a large hand on Kitty's smaller one, "it's none of my business, but if you don't mind me sayin' – seems like you're right partial to him."

Not looking up, she admitted, "I love him."

"I can see that," the older woman said. Then, speculating, added, "Did he beat you?" Hannah had never experienced it herself, but she'd seen her share of women who loved so blindly that they couldn't see the wrong in it. Sometimes powerful men felt the need to demonstrate that power over the weak.

But the incredulity on Kitty's face answered the question before she even spoke. "What?"

Already knowing she had guessed very wrong, Hannah tried to clarify. "Well, I asked if he beat you, but – "

"No. Certainly not," Kitty said, her voice hardening in defense of the marshal. "Matt would never – why, he's the kindest, gentlest – " She stopped, astonished at the thought. "No!"

"I'm sorry. I sure can see I was wrong about that." And she did see. Kitty looked as if she were about to slap her.

"Damn right," Kitty snapped.

Maybe there was another reason, then. Gently, Hannah suggested, "You love him, and he doesn't feel the same way, is that it?"

Kitty glared at her. "I believe you've already admitted this is none of your business," she snapped.

Shrugging, Hannah agreed. "I have, but that doesn't mean I ain't interested."

Unexpectedly, Kitty's scowl lifted to a laugh. "Well, that's not it either. He loves me. He loves me very much." Her expression grew serious again. "That's – that's part of the problem."

Brow drawn, Hannah cocked her head. "He loves you? Honey, I sure don't see how that's a problem – "

"He's a lawman," she said, almost spitting out the words. "For twenty years, he's been a lawman. I knew how it had to be, and it was okay. I just thought that one day – well, one day he'd stop being a lawman and then – "

Pushing up from the table, Kitty stepped to the roll top desk by the wall and fingered some knick-knacks scattered across it. "For twenty years I've watched him go after men – and a few women – and I've watched them come after him. Not one of them came who didn't intend to kill him. I've waited, my heart aching, while he tracked murderers all by himself down into Mexico and up to the Dakotas. I've wondered when I've been with him if this would be the last time we kissed, the last time we touched, the last time we – "

She started to pace, as if the memories were too unsettling to let her stand still. "I've watched Doc dig so many bullets out of him that even I've lost count – and I used to know where every mark on his body came from." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "They're just too many now – "

When she fell silent, Hannah asked, "Twenty years?"

"Just about."

"That's a long time. And you're leaving now?"

Her earrings jangled as she nodded. "He took a shot gun blast a few months ago. Almost bled to death. I thought he'd lose the arm for sure."

"His gun arm?"

"Yeah. Doc figured he'd never even be able to use it again, much less shoot like he had before."

"He was good?" Hannah had heard he was, of course.

"He was the best," Kitty said with certainty.

"I take it he did use it again."

"I thought maybe after that he'd decide it was finally time to turn in the badge. I thought, maybe we could – we could really be together."

"He didn't," Hannah guessed.

"He didn't. He went off for a while, to think things over. I wasn't sure he was coming back then, but he did. And things were good for a while. He worked hard to get his gun arm back in shape. Worked real hard. And he did it, too. He's almost as good as he was before."

"Almost?"

Kitty turned, and the fear on her face told the story. "Almost. I've just been waiting for someone to discover that he's a half second slower, that he's an inch less accurate. They'll come into town like pilgrims to the Holy Grail, to be the man who killed Matt Dillon."

Hannah stood and moved to stand next to Kitty, resting a hand on her shoulder. "And you don't want to be here when that happens."

"No. But – but It's not just that."

The older woman waited without speaking.

"Through the years, things have – happened – to me because of who and what he is. Bad things. And it's torn him up. He blames himself."

She stepped back from the desk, but didn't turn around. Hannah let her hand drop.

"That's why we've never – well, how much harder would it be to protect a wife and child? He would be distracted, tied down and unable to do his job like he needed. And what if he couldn't protect us? What if something happened to me or to – a child? He would never be able to forgive himself." Her voice fell to a whisper. "And maybe I couldn't forgive him either."

Hannah waited a moment, let the weight of what this woman must be feeling settle around them. Finally, she asked, "Where will you go?"

The moment broken, Kitty lifted her head and wiped at moist eyes. "I'm not sure. Home, maybe."

"Dodge isn't home?"

"I used to think so. No, New Orleans. I haven't been back there to live in over twenty years, but I still have friends and a few cousins there."

"When are you going to tell him?"

A sigh lifted her shoulders. "I'm not. He's gone now, tracking some outlaw again. If he comes – when he comes back, he won't have to worry about me anymore. And I – "

I won't have to worry about him, Hannah finished silently for her. "You don't think he'll look for ya'?"

"He might." Her expression said he would. "Hannah, I need – I need you to promise something."

She knew it was coming, didn't want to commit to what was about to be asked of her, but this woman needed someone to trust, so she nodded.

"I won't tell you for sure, so you can't lie to him."

"I'd lie if you wanted me to."

Kitty smiled and embraced her successor to the Long Branch. "Thank you. It's best this way."

Hannah squinted dubiously. "If you say so."

Kitty took a breath, let it out, then took another and spoke again. "Could you do one more thing for me?"

"Sure." How much worse could it be than lying to a United States marshal?

"Sometimes, he has trouble – sleeping at night." She didn't seem to care that she had revealed an intimate detail about their relationship. "His leg," she explained. "Or his back. Or both. Old injuries."

Hannah watched her face tighten in empathy with her lover – or former lover.

"Matt's not much of a drinker, but sometimes, when it's really bad and he can't sleep, I'll pour him a shot – or two – of straight bourbon. It helps a little."

The older woman frowned. "I'm not sure what you want me to do."

Placing a hand on Hannah's arm, Kitty turned to her, eyes tortured. "If he comes in the Long Branch and looks like – well, you can see his jaw tighten, and he'll press his lips together hard when the pain's bad." The clear blue eyes clouded in memory and in distress. Taking in a ragged breath, she asked, "Can you offer him a shot? He may not take it, but offer it anyway. Just don't let him know why. In his line of work, he doesn't like to – he feels like he should always be in control, like he can't let down his guard and show any weaknesses."

Hannah shook her head, heart breaking for this woman and for the man who had no idea she was about to leave. "Are you sure you want to do this? We can tear up these papers right now – "

"No," Kitty said quickly, too quickly, as if trying to outrun the doubts that chased her. "I have to do this. Now, will you promise me?"

She felt the tears touch her eyes, and she hadn't cried in years. "Sure, honey. And he'll never know why."

They had shared their own toast of fine brandy after that. Then, she had signed the last paper and been part of ending an era in Dodge City. Kitty Russell was leaving. The Long Branch Saloon wouldn't be the same. Even Hannah knew that.

XXXX

Twisting the empty shot glass around in circles on the back office table, Hannah wondered if she would have even made an offer on the saloon if she had known the real reason for the sale. She couldn't help but believe that Kitty had made a huge mistake. But then again, that wasn't her for her to decide. She just prayed the marshal would give the Long Branch a wide berth and not ask her more questions. After meeting him and seeing just how much he loved Kitty Russell, she had her doubts about how long she could keep the promises she had made.

Because, it was very obvious that, even if Matt Dillon didn't feel like he could show any weakness, he sure as hell had revealed at least one.

TBC