Haunted Heart

A Gunsmoke Story

By Amanda (MAHC)

Chapter Nineteen: Neglected

POV: Matt

Spoilers: "Hostage!" (minor)

Rating: R

Disclaimer: The original GS characters aren't mine, of course, but I created Sam. (Well, Matt and Kitty created him in my story.)

Matt Dillon groaned and fell back hard, his muscles suddenly leaden and uncooperative, his breath heaving from him, his energy exhausted. He had hung on as long as he could, but the forces that pounded his body proved too powerful to overcome, and now he lay, unmoving, arms flung out to his side, legs stretched uselessly. If one of his many enemies had chosen that instant to attack him, he doubted he had the strength even to raise his head in acknowledgement of the assailant. At that moment, the formidable U.S. marshal was helpless, vulnerable, powerless.

And he had gotten himself into that condition with perfect willingness – eagerness, even.

A soft moan drifted from beside him, a gentle hand slid across his ribs to rest at the center of his chest. He envisioned it bouncing with the hard pounding of his heart. Her body turned to press against his side, her breasts burning into his skin, sparking the embers that still glowed despite the fire she had recently allowed him to extinguish inside her.

"Nice and easy," Doc had said, and Matt had tried. He really had tried, but the slow, sensuous burn that began their lovemaking had exploded into a conflagration that consumed him. At least he was comforted to know – judging from her heavy sigh and languid body – that Kitty had been just as consumed as he was.

Now, climbing up from the smoldering ruins, he mustered enough energy to twist his body, prop on one hand, and peer down at her. A contented smile curved her lips, and he couldn't resist leaning over to kiss them.

"Mmm," she murmured.

"Mmm? Is that all?"

"That's all you're gonna get from me, Cowboy."

"Yeah?"

"You wore me out."

His satisfaction faltered with the alarm that shot through him, jolting him from the haze of serenity. "Kitty, are you – "

Shaking her head, she opened her eyes long enough to roll them at him. "I'm fine, Matt. If you're gonna become a hovering mother hen until this baby is born – "

But he couldn't shake the seriousness of her health. "I mean it, Kitty. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Doctor Dillon," she scolded. "Better than fine. I just had a very big, very handsome – and very talented – man give me the most pleasure I've had since – "

She paused, and he smiled, prompting, "Since?"

"Since the last time that very big, very handsome, very talented man pleasured me."

"And that," he declared in between nibbles on her smooth skin, "was much too long ago."

Arching her neck to allow him better access, she murmured, "Much too long."

He clucked his tongue against his teeth. "Very neglectful of him."

"Very," she agreed. "How do you think he should make up for that neglect?"

"Hmm. Give me a few minutes to think."

Her hand strayed down his abdomen and lower, making him suck in a quick breath. "I do believe," she purred, "that you are already coming – up – with something."

He moaned and grinned at the same time, nudging her onto her back so that he could lay his head on her shoulder and let his eyes close, his thoughts drifting pleasantly over the previous hour he had spent in her arms as her touch readied him again.

XXXX

It had taken him longer than he wanted to unhitch the horses and dutifully rub them down, the frustrating ache in his arm slowing him. But he had managed to complete the task in only a little more time than usual, while his redheaded incentive rocked their child to sleep and waited impatiently for him inside their house, just as eager for his touch as he was for hers.

Although Festus had offered to accompany them home from Dodge, he had politely refused the deputy's good intentions, a wise decision, because the way Kitty greeted him at the door was a sight meant for his gaze alone. Clothed only in a flimsy bit of black lace that revealed more than it hid, she let her eyes pierce him, draw him to her with not even a flick of a finger. His heart jerked against his rib cage, desire he had only partly managed to suppress in Doc's office surging through him and settling with an ache at the pit of his belly.

"Kathleen," he breathed, stepping toward her and letting his hands slide up her arms, his fingers almost trembling with the need to touch her. It had been much too long.

Trying to heed the physician's instructions, he had clamped down on the urge to sweep her into his embrace and take her right there, fast and hard – even though Kitty's steamy expression told him that would have been just fine with her. Instead, he bent to kiss her softly, his tongue sliding over her lips and into her mouth with measured tenderness. His hands pressed against her back, pulling her so that their bodies just grazed, the lace over her breasts brushing his shirt. But, in spite of his efforts, his arousal surged between them, pushing and pulsing against the slight roundness of her stomach.

"You sure are taking your time, Cowboy," she scolded gently, her own trembling fingers reaching up to unbutton his shirt and push inside, dancing over his bare chest.

"You keep doing that, I won't be for long," he admitted, swallowing a gasp as she grazed a flat nipple.

"Good."

Her hands made quick work of removing his shirt, then reached lower, a heated smile lifting her mouth as she pressed into the insistent ridge that strained against the material of his trousers. With a joint effort, they shucked the rest of his clothes, and soon he stood before her, his strong body bare except for the bandage Doc had wrapped around his arm. She looked him up and down, her eyes sparkling, their blatant admiration drawing a rare blush to his cheeks.

"My, my," she murmured, her gaze lingering at his groin. His cheeks flushed deeper crimson.

He didn't know how he was going to keep control much longer. With a single touch of his hand, he swept the bit of lace from her, bending his head to take the tip of a breast into his mouth, to suckle gently, to caress.

Gasping, she took his hand, urging him toward the bed. "No more taking your time."

Thank God.

But he tried anyway, still giving good faith effort to follow Doc's instructions. It sure as hell wasn't easy, though, not with her hands shoving him onto the mattress and roaming boldly over his body, rubbing and scratching, and squeezing, bringing him to the point of surrender then easing him back down.

His entire body was throbbing as he turned onto his side and nestled against her, then pressed forward almost hesitantly, aching for her, yearning to surge ahead and be surrounded by her. She reached between them, her fingers brushing over the satin-steel flesh, tearing the moan from his throat. With one leg wrapped over his hips, she guided him so that he was in position. Her own gasp followed his as he slid forward then paused to let her accommodate him.

"You don't have to be so careful, Matt," she assured him breathlessly.

Clenching his jaw, he reminded, "But Doc said – "

"Okay, look, Doc is about the last person I want to be talking about right now."

He smirked. "Don't want to get fussed at tomorrow."

"Is that worse than being fussed at tonight?"

He considered it for a moment until she let her body open for him, and he felt himself slide deeper into that delicious, overwhelming heat. "Oh, God," he groaned.

"You still worried about Doc?"

"Doc who?"

"Okay, then, Cowboy, why don't you remind me why I married you?"

"I thought it was because you loved me."

"Oh, yeah. That, too," she teased, then gasped as he moved again, letting his thickness slowly stretch her. "Oh, yeah," she groaned, not teasing at all anymore.

Sensation erupted through him, and he squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth, struggling not to surrender to the almost overwhelming need to move.

"Matt?"

Opening his eyes, he saw Kitty watching him, concern darkening her lovely features. "You okay?"

If he weren't working so hard not to lose control right then, he would have laughed ironically. He certainly was okay – more than okay. "I'm fine, Kitty," he assured her hoarsely, then admitted, "Just trying to keep this from being over in about a minute and a half."

Her concern curved into a grin. "I have faith in you, Cowboy." Slowly, she pulled back until he slid from her body, a move that did little to help his situation.

"Kitty," he groaned.

Nudging him onto his back, she straddled his hips, her slender fingers curving around him and drawing him back to her.

"I'm ready, Matt," she breathed. "Please don't make me wait any longer." Her hands braced on his chest as she let her body sink onto him.

No waiting? He could certainly accommodate that request. Released by her appeal not to hold back, he joined them completely, grunting as she closed tightly around him. All thought of nice and easy melted as they strained against each other, caught up in an irreversible plunge toward the explosive culmination of their conflagration. Teeth gritted, he shook with the desperate effort to wait for her, grunting in relief when her wild contractions finally gripped him. His body let go then. The powerful surges pulled him deep into her over and over, until the final waves ripped the last of his energy from him, and he collapsed onto the bed as she collapsed into him.

XXXX

He lay in her arms, his head pillowed on her breasts, completely content as only her embrace allowed him to be. Her fingers had moved from his lower body to play through his hair, tugging gently at the wild curls.

After a few more minutes, he heard Kitty shift in the bed. "Matt?"

His chest rose only enough to draw in a quick breath for his response. "Hmm?"

"What's Washington like?"

"What?"

"Washington, D.C. What's it like?"

A frown of consternation furrowed his brow. "Kitty, you're asking about Washington now? After we – after – "

She grinned playfully. "Well, you've stimulated my – interest."

"Your interest, huh?"

"Oh yes." But her light tone melted into seriousness. "Really, Matt."

He sighed, contemplating how to answer. In truth, he had only visited the nation's capital a few times himself. Even though it was the seat of government, it had the reputation of being muddy and coarse. In the summer it was so stifling and riddled with Yellow Fever that only the poorest or most foolish of citizens remained.

"I guess it has its good points and bad points." He looked down, his heart still uncertain about what all this meant for her. "Kitty, are you sure about this? Dodge has been your home for so long – "

Her fingers caressed his cheek, the warmth of her touch sinking into his skin. "I told you, home is where the heart is. And you and Sam are my heart, Cowboy." Her hand dropped to her stomach. "And this little one."

He swallowed, his jaw hard with the effort to control his emotions. "I love you, Kathleen Dillon," he whispered, pulling her to him again, holding her tightly against his body, warm secure in his embrace.

"I love you," she returned, her voice trembling.

They lay still for a long moment, their hearts beating almost in unison, the aching void of the months apart now filled with that love. Finally, he felt her body tense slightly as she braced to sit beside him. That usually meant she wanted to talk, and he prepared himself for just about anything.

Sure enough, after a few seconds, she asked, "Matt?"

"Mmm?"

"What really happened to Newly's jaw?"

Damn.

He flinched and swallowed hard before he sucked in a deeper breath. Slowly, his eyes opened and he stared up at the ceiling for several long beats.

Newly's jaw? He fell off his horse. He got into a fight with a renegade Indian. He tried to kiss a saloon girl in Hays.

"I hit him," he admitted quietly, an uneasy, rueful smile curving his lips.

Shocked into sitting all the way, she stared down at him, obviously not expecting that answer. "You hit him?"

He nodded regretfully.

"Why, what on earth for?"

Matt figured Kitty was wondering what unforeseeable event prompted him to haul off and slug his deputy. She knew the young man practically idolized Matt, a fact she sometimes liked to tease him about, much to his chagrin.

"Well," he said, putting on his best marshal's tone, "you know Newly's been askin' for it, loud and rowdy. I finally just got tired of all his carrying on."

"Matt," she scolded, not letting him divert her.

He sighed, and worked his jaw a second or two before he finally spoke. "I didn't mean to," he said, but figured his eyes gave away enough to let her know it was more than just a random accident.

Softening her voice, she asked, "What happened?"

His lips pressed together tightly, then he mumbled, "He tried to wake me up and – "

Her eyes widened in instant understanding. "Oh, Matt," she breathed, lying back down to rest her head on his shoulder.

Both relieved and regretful, he drew her close, knowing that their intimacy for the past twenty years had given her plenty of occasions to witness the nightmares he fought. He couldn't even begin to describe how soothing and secure her arms felt once he had broken away from the horrible, vivid dreams. Sometimes he felt like sharing them with her; other times, he just lay in her arms until his heart rate slowed enough to return to sleep. And yet other times he allowed his thoughts to be diverted by her lips and fingers, and they ended up loving the harsh memories away.

"Which one was it this time?"

He had told her enough in the past so that she knew that his worst dreams were filled with those torturous seconds before he was forced to kill a man in a gunfight. In a moment of weakness, he had admitted to her that after he killed his first man in a gunfight as Adam Kimbro's deputy, he had been physically ill. He learned quickly that that was part of the job, but it didn't make the battle any less sickening to him. But she also knew that he dreamed about her. He had confessed to it after Bonner, but later she told him that she had known years before, when he called out her name in the middle of the night, bolt upright in the bed and wide-eyed, sweat dripping off him, yelling for the unseen villain to spare her, to take him instead.

"Matt?"

But he shook his head, unable to share the torturous vision of her being ripped from him in the midst of heated lovemaking by a gunman's bullet. "Not yet, Kitty. Not yet."

"It's okay, Cowboy," she assured him, letting her hand rub across his bare chest. "You don't have to tell me, yet – or ever. Just know that I'm here. I'll always be here."

I'll always be here. Thank God he could really believe that, now. He took a quick breath, struggling for control.

"I love you, Kitty," he told her again, knowing he hadn't said it often enough over the years. "I want you to be happy, now. I want this to be what you want."

"It's what I want, Matt." Her eyes welled with tears, and he brushed the moisture with a thumb.

"I can't make up for twenty years. I won't try. I had made that commitment a long time ago, and I'm proud of what I've done. But it's time now for another commitment." A gentle smile lifted his expression. "You've been very patient with me, Miss Russell," he teased.

"I'll say," she mumbled through her tears.

"I figure that patience ought to be rewarded."

Tears gave way to seduction. "Really? And just how do you plan on rewarding me, Marshal Dillon?"

"Slowly," he murmured, leaning down to brush his lips against hers. "Very, very slowly."

His mouth closed on hers, the heat re-igniting the fire inside him, but this time his body was ready for the nice and easy, ready for the slow burn. Even though pain shot through his wounded arm as he braced on his elbows, he held the position that let him take things gradually, teasing her, taunting her.

"Matt, please," she moaned, her fingernails clawing at his broad back. He wondered vaguely where they had put Doc's salve.

"Easy, Red," he soothed. "This time I'm following orders. This time, you'll just have to wait."

Her hips arched upward, but he reached down and held her steady with one hand, still supporting his weight with the other. He let his teeth nibble at her smooth jaw, slipping down her neck and across her breasts, pressing hot kisses onto the freckles she despised, but he adored. His lips burned as they glided over the generous swells.

Despite his earlier release, he felt his body fighting him, challenging the patience he had committed to. Pushing up with his arms, he gritted his teeth to slow the rush of urgency. As gradually as he could, he joined them again, jaw muscles working furiously to hold back the need to drive deep with a single thrust.

"Matt!" His name was wrenched from her throat in an agonized plea.

With a gasp, he felt her legs squeeze around his back and her body thrust up, completing their joining with a swift jerk that almost sent him over the edge. He groaned her name, sweat trailing down his face and chest with the effort to stem the imminent flood. It wouldn't be long now. He knew he couldn't resist the overwhelming pull. With just a few more –

"Kitty? Matt? You there?"

Something deep in his brain registered the call from outside, but he couldn't acknowledge it, had no strength to stop his body from its dedicated course.

Fortunately – or unfortunately – Kitty was able to respond. "Damn it!" She swore as she pulled away from him.

Trembling with the abrupt and painful interruption, he took in gasping breaths, not completely sure he could control the crushing need that gripped him. "Oh, God," he moaned miserably.

"Who the hell – "she snapped, scrambling off the bed. "Somebody's gonna pay for this."

"It's Doc!" came another call, and even through his desire the marshal realized that the older man was announcing his presence from a fair distance, no doubt giving them time to make themselves presentable on the chance they weren't already. Doc knew them well.

"Doc? What is he doing here?" Kitty asked as she grabbed a robe and shoved her arms into the sleeves. He figured she didn't really need an answer – or hoped she didn't, since he wasn't sure he was capable of coherent speech just yet. "Tomorrow. I invited him to dinner tomorrow." Then she paused and looked back at him, suddenly unsure. "Didn't I?"

Pressed to respond, he managed a nod, even though he really didn't remember when she had invited Doc to dinner. He'd had other things on his mind.

"I thought so," she said with a satisfied nod. "Not that I don't want to see him, but his timing stinks."

Still aching from the sudden disruption, Matt couldn't help but agree.

"Kitty! Matt!" Doc called again loudly. "Hello the house!"

Her hand on the doorknob, Kitty turned to Matt and smirked. "This is familiar."

"Too familiar," he grunted.

"Come on out," she told him, then, getting a good look at him, winced and added, "when you can."

As the door closed behind her, Matt sat on the side of the bed, steadying his breathing. If Doc had driven out from town, he would expect to visit a while at the least. A resigned sigh lifted his chest, and, with concerted effort, he tugged on his pants and shirt, letting the tails hang down over his waist, satisfied with remaining barefoot and vest-less. He found Doc and Kitty sitting at the table, two cups of coffee in front of them. The physician looked up when Matt appeared from the bedroom, his eyes squinting as he studied the tall lawman.

"Doc," Matt greeted, not bothering too much to hide his irritation.

The grayish-white head cocked wryly. "Well, Matt. Kitty said you might be a while. Said you were still in some discomfort."

Matt shot an alarmed look toward his wife.

"From your arm," she emphasized pointedly.

"Oh. Uh, yeah. That's right."

"Good thing I came by then."

"Yeah," he growled, the sarcasm heavy in his voice.

But Doc seemed oblivious to his annoyance. "I actually came to check on Kitty."

"I'm fine, Doc," Kitty declared.

"Me, too," Matt offered quickly – a little too quickly, opening the outside door in eager encouragement. "Well, guess that's what you needed to know, huh? So, see you tomorrow for supper."

"Matt!" Kitty scolded.

Doc's eyes widened. "You just said the arm was giving you trouble," he protested, then frowned. "I told you you weren't just 'winged'. You need to be in bed."

"Which is exactly where I was," Matt muttered ruefully.

"Were you? Well, good, good." Chuckling, he said, "I was afraid maybe you and Kitty – " But he stopped abruptly, glancing at Kitty's robe and then back to Matt's bedraggled appearance. After a moment, he shook his head in defeat. "Well, I should have known. I gave you three hours, for Pete's sake. What have you been doing with it?" He held up a hand. "Nevermind. I don't want to know."

Matt felt his own face tighten in exasperation. "Doc, what a man and woman do in their own home – "

"Better your home," he quipped, "than my office."

Jaw cocked, Matt asked curtly, "Was there something you needed besides messing up my afternoon?"

"Matt – " Kitty laid a hand on his arm.

But Doc didn't snap back. Instead, he smiled at them, his countenance softening. "Yeah, Matt, there was. Sit down here with Kitty." He gestured at the table.

Immediately reading the change in Doc's tone, the marshal lowered his long frame into the chair, working to keep the grimace from his face as pain sliced through his wounded arm. Now that he wasn't distracted by Kitty, the damn thing really was bothering him. One glimpse of the older man's lifted brow let him know he hadn't quite succeeded in masking the discomfort.

"What can we do for you, Doc?" he asked sincerely, all bantering and irritation aside.

The doctor reached out with both hands, one resting on Kitty's arm, the other on Matt's. Surprised, the lawman exchanged glances with his wife, who gave him a bemused smile.

"I've want you to take that offer, Matt. I want you to take it and get away from a job that makes you risk your life every single day and makes those who love you risk their hearts."

It wasn't at all what Matt had expected his old friend to say, and he found himself at a complete loss for words. He suspected his mouth probably hung open in shock, but he couldn't register enough focus on that to close it. Instead, he stared at the physician and waited for him to continue.

"You owe it to Kitty and your children, but you also owe it to yourself. My God, Matt, how many bullets have I dug out of you over twenty-one years? How many more has someone else dug out when I wasn't around? There's only so much a man should be expected to give. You've given enough, Matt. Take this chance."

"Doc – " he began, but Adams shook his head to stop him.

His pale eyes regarded them both with a depth of love that drew a lump to Matt's throat. "You two are like my own. More like you really are my own. I've watched you for a long time now. You were just raw kids at first. Two young people so full of energy and hope and dreams – and so full of each other that you couldn't see straight."

Matt opened his mouth to dispute the observations. He and Kitty had been discreet back then, hadn't they? But Doc held up a staying hand.

"You were careful, Matt, I know. But you can't hide that kind of love."

The marshal felt his face warm.

"I hate to burst your bubble, but everybody knew it."

Kitty erupted in a hearty laugh. "I don't guess I really figured we fooled anybody."

"Not with all that eyeballin'," Doc said, chuckling. "Anyway, like I was saying, I've watched you two for a long time. There have been lots of good times. There have been some tough times, too."

Matt swallowed, his mind bringing up unbidden memories of the worst of those tough times.

"But I think the best of times are before you now. Go after them, Matt."

Reluctantly, the marshal leaned back in the chair and smiled sadly at his very dear friend. "We are going, Doc. Kitty wants me to take the job, so – so we're going."

The physician smiled and nodded, but his eyes were melancholy. "You'd better not even think about keeping those grandchildren to yourselves. I'll be comin' out from time to time to make sure you're spoilin' 'em properly."

"Oh, Doc," Kitty breathed, catching his hand in both of hers and kissing him on the cheek. In seconds, they were clinging to each other, her tears falling freely, his shedding carefully. Matt stood awkwardly, jaw clenched with the effort not to join them.

"Too bad that training center's not in Dodge," Kitty choked out between sobs. "That would be – just about perfect."

"Just about," Doc agreed, patting her on the back.

Matt watched them, the ubiquitous guilt pounding him again, guilt over all Kitty had sacrificed for so long, over what he had asked of her these twenty years. Would she be happy in Washington? Kitty was a versatile woman, independent and strong. He knew she would survive – even prosper – anywhere she chose.

But would she be happy?

A strange sensation played in his chest, tickling to life the beginnings of an idea.

Swiping at his nose noisily, Doc turned red eyes on Matt. "Well, that's all I came to say. Sorry if my – timing – was off." He swung a hand toward the marshal. "At least let me re-dress that arm before I leave."

"It's all right, Doc," Matt started to protest. After all, he had just bound the wound that morning. But a quick glance revealed a tell-tale fresh splotch of red staining the sleeve of his new shirt. Acquiescing to the physician's instructions while Kitty wiped her eyes, Matt stripped to the waist and settled back into a straight chair.

Clucking his tongue, Doc set about checking the torn flesh and muscle. Matt occasionally flinched as he hit a particularly tender spot. "How'd you get this thing so unraveled?" the doctor complained, the old grouch in his tone. "Looks like you've been wrestling a wildc – " He stopped and cocked an eyebrow toward Kitty, then rolled his eyes and grunted.

"How is he?" Kitty asked smoothly, face still splotched from crying.

"Well, he's just as stubborn as ever," Doc answered, then fixed her with a point glare. "And it seems no one in this house understands the concept of 'rest'."

But she just grinned back unapologetically.

With a final tie on the new bandage, Doc replaced his instruments and turned toward the door. "I'll head back to town. I'll re-dress it again tomorrow." Throwing another accusatory glance at them both, he admonished, "Try not to destroy it completely between now and then."

"No promises," Kitty smirked.

Doc grunted. "I'll be back for dinner tomorrow, and I don't expect to be delayed because you two can't keep your hands off each other."

Grinning, and over any embarrassment, Matt called after him. "See you at five, Doc. And Doc?"

Adams looked back from the front yard.

"Thanks."

His face kind and soft, their dear, old friend gave them his trademark blink and closed-mouth smile that conveyed a much deeper message than just goodbye.

When they were alone again, Matt laid his hands on Kitty's shoulders. "Did you mean that, Kitty?" he asked softly.

"Mean what?"

"That you'd rather stay here."

"What are you talking about?"

"You told Doc it would be almost perfect if the training center was in Dodge."

Leaning into him, her hand pressing against his chest, she shook her head. "I was just trying to make Doc feel better. I've already told you, home is where – "

"I know." But would she be happy?

Glancing at the mantle clock, he realized Sam would most certainly be waking soon. Not much time. "Let's talk about it later," he suggested, gathering Kitty in his arms. "Now, where were we?"

"Well, let's see" she breathed, sliding her hands up under his shirt to run her nails over his broad back. "I seem to recall something about neglect and trying to make up for it."

Chills ran over his flesh in anticipation. "Ah."

"Matt?" One hand slipped lower, behind the waistband of his trousers to rest against a firm hip.

"Hmm?" he asked absently,

"I'm feeling neglected again."

His lips brushed her ear, blowing gently across it. "Really?"

"Umm hmm."

"Well," he murmured, sweeping her into his arms and smiling at the sheer delight on her face. "We can't have you feeling neglected. We'll just have to see what we can do about that."

And he was true to his word. By the time Sam awakened from his nap, Matt didn't figure Kitty could have named one tiny spot on her body that was the least bit neglected.

TBC