Chapter3
It is morning and the chill in the air is quickly replaced by heat from the sun as it casts a new day's light over the prairie.
Matt wakes early. No stress, no jumping up to deal with prisoners in the cells or rushing to leave Kitty's rooms before he will be spotted descending the stairs to the alley.
He lies there listening to her soft breath, hardly daring to move, not wanting to break the spell. Eventually he gets up and collects his clothes from the floor. He picks up Kitty's dress and lays it gently over a chair. She continues to sleep.
He heads out to the porch and reaching up stretches his whole body, appreciating the soft morning air.
He goes to feed and water the horse and turn him out into the small corral. Refilling the bucket again he carries it back to the kitchen. He is just about to head out to get some firewood when she appears at the bedroom door. Red hair unkempt from the night before and falling on her shoulders, no makeup on yet and just a delicate robe tied around her.
He goes over and gives her a gentle kiss.
"Just a thank you for last night," he says.
She smiles – it should be her thanking him.
There is pleasure in fixin breakfast if you are doing it together, if there is no rush, and no one coming to break the contentment. Household chores take on a new delight.
Breakfast is over and with a small picnic basket and fishing poles in hand they set out for the river.
The day is perfect. Kitty believes she could live this life forever and be perfectly happy. Being the realist that she is she knows that is not possible, but dreaming does no harm.
The catch is good, plenty for supper.
Kitty decides that tonight she will personally thank her big strong Marshal for all his effort in arranging this wonderful sojourn, and for the previous night's pleasures, which were more than she ever could have imagined.
That evening as the firelight begins to fade, she takes the big man gently by the hand.
"Tonight is for you," she tells him as she leads him to the small bedroom where the bed is already turned down and the lamp is as low as it will go.
Two more days pass in equal serenity. She had thought Matt would get restless, but no, he seems to enjoy this style of life. Just like before he sets traps and catches some small game for their evening meal.
This is a time without responsibilities. For her there are no ledgers to balance, no stock to refill behind the bar and no drunken cowboys to deal with in the evening. She put all those things from her mind. Sam was taking care of everything. Other than Doc he was the only person who knows she is spending a short vacation with the Marshal.
For Matt's part he had taken off his badge and left everything to Festus and the deputy.
They had promised each other that Dodge City was not even going to exist for the next few days.
()()()()()()
It is the day before they are supposed to leave. As usual Matt is up early, and when Kitty has put the coffee pot on the stove, she goes out to find him. Predictably he is in the small barn cleaning the stall after he has turned the horse out into the corral. It warms Kitty to see how he cares for the animal. Matt is such a gentle soul at heart. So different from the man the rest of Dodge sees. She wonders sometimes how, day in day out, he portrays that tough, hardened outer skin that the rest of the citizens see. Maybe Doc is the only other person who has seen the real Mathew Dillon.
He is cleaning the stall with a pitchfork when it catches in something metal. He bends down to check. There, buried in the dirt floor is a piece of metal. As he scrapes back the hay and manure it begins to take shape. Kitty comes closer
"What is it Matt?"
"Not sure, a metal box of some sort." He finds an old shovel in the corner of the barn and works at the packed soil, eventually managing to pull out a small metal box with a padlock on it.
The padlock is rusted and defies any effort to remove it, so taking it outside, he aims his colt and fires at it.
Carefully he opens the box to reveal a collection of objects and papers.
"We'll take it inside and go through them," he says.
He hurries to finish cleaning the stall and then they head back to the small shack.
Piece by piece they remove the contents of the rusty box and set them on the table.
Two letters opened and read many times, from a mother to her son. Kitty feels guilty reading something so personal. His name was Daniel Myers. From the address on the envelope it looks like he had been in state prison in Michigan at the time of writing. From the words it seemed that he was about to be released. The mother was begging her son not to come home. His father would kill him for bringing disgrace on the family. She missed him terribly and had arranged to have some money that she had managed to save, sent to him on the day of his release. The second of the pair was sent earlier, just after his conviction. Apparently he was to serve five years. There was no mention of his crime – only that the mother knew her son to be innocent. The date on the letter was 1851.
Carefully they work their way through the other things in the box.
There is a silk handkerchief with lace edges and embroidery in one corner. To kitty it seems vaguely familiar but she cannot place it.
Next there is a bill of sale for two horses and a wagon.
A knife. A watch chain that has a very unusual pattern to the links, instead of rounded they are flattened like small brass plates. No engraving, the metal is dulled now, but looks like it was polished and cared for at one time.
An old leather belt with a well-worn buckle, the leather was aged and cracked in parts, again at one time in its history it had been well cared for.
They were getting near the bottom of the box now. Matt lifts out some official looking papers. Opening them up he sees that they are release papers from the State Prison in Michigan saying that Daniel Myers served his 5 years for embezzlement, and is now a free man.
Not many things left here now. Kitty lifts out a small piece of faded pink paper, opening it up she finds it is a ticket for passage on a Mississippi river boat. The Mississippi Queen, the very name sends a shiver down her spine, but she tries not to show it.
At the very bottom of the rusted old box there is a blue ribbon tied around an old newspaper cutting and three unopened, unsent letters.
Kitty releases the neatly kept bundle from the ribbon. Matt is watching her as she carefully unfolds the cutting.
It is old and faded and bears the date 1866. Kitty looks hard at it. Her face pales. She raises a hand to her mouth and takes in a gasping breath.
"What is it?" asks Matt, suddenly concerned, "are you ok?"
At first she tries to hide the yellowed piece of paper. He stands there a minute watching, puzzled by the change that has come over her. Finally she hands it to him. At first he cannot see the reason for her reaction. In the foreground the Captain of the Mississippi Queen is standing proudly at the rail of the paddle steamer. Just to the left of him is the ships nameplate. The view extends back in to the saloon, and there at a table are 4 figures playing cards. The dealer is a beautiful young woman. A man standing behind her and to one side is watching her. He has a long cigar in his mouth. He is wearing a very distinctive watch chain, Kitty picks up the one from the table, and looks at it. It is identical.
At first Matt reads the headlines – something about this captain making a record-breaking number of trips up and down the Mississippi, from Memphis to New Orleans and back, apparently he was quite a famous man in his day.
He looks at the cutting more carefully, and then at her. In spite of the age and faded appearance of the picture, the woman is Kitty, no mistaking that beautiful face.
"That's you Kitty." A statement, not a question.
The handkerchief, she remembers now why it is familiar.
Somehow this picture troubles her, he can't imagine why. He seems to remember once, a comment that she worked in the casino of a riverboat for a time.
Matt picks up the letters and turns them over. Should they open them? They are addressed to "My Flower of the River."
Carefully he opens the first envelope and starts to read
They are love letters written to some long admired beauty.
The writer tells the woman that he has admired her looks from afar, and her manner and courtesies tell him that she is a woman of class. He is sad that he has a murky past and is not even worthy to look upon her. Further more he is old enough to be her father. She has graced him with a few smiles and his heart fluttered madly. He wants to talk with her but feels she is so high on a pedestal that he does not dare approach.
The second letter starts out the same way but tells how he managed to stand close to her and even summoned the courage to play at her table, but could not concentrate on the cards when she was sitting next to him.
The third letter is much more personal. It describes her red hair, the dress she was wearing in the casino that night. How he saved the last of his money so he could visit with her in her room. Half an hour was all he could afford. She was nice to him. Treated him with understanding when he was unable to enjoy her services. He was so overcome he had tried to leave her room long before his time was up, but she sat him down and talked to him in sweet and tender tones. She did not mock him for his shortcomings. He feels embarrassed that as he left he took the small handkerchief that was lying on her bed. He would lie in his cabin at night, holding it to his face and trying to imagine she was there.
He had booked a return passage to Memphis but when the boat left the dock and the casino opened she was not there. His heart was broken. He would never be the same again.
Kitty remembers the incident well. It was her last trip on the riverboat. Between the money she had earned working in her room and at card tables she had enough to leave the paddle steamer in New Orleans. All of this took place about two years before she finally arrived in Dodge.
Her hands are covering her face now. She is embarrassed to have Matt read the part about him in her room. She feels those large calloused hands on her shoulders.
"What is it Kitty?"
"I am ashamed that you should read all that Matt. It was a life I would rather not have had."
Matt holds her to him. Strong arms hold her tightly to his chest. He tilts her face up towards him and wipes her half expressed tears. She tries to look away, afraid he will no longer love and respect her after this revelation.
He takes her to sit on the small couch by the fire. With an arm around her shoulder he tells he knows about her past. It does not change how he feels about her. He accepts all that, it is part of who she is.
She snuggles into his shoulder.
"My past has a lot of murky details too Kitty. Some things I would rather forget, but they are there, I cannot deny them. They are what have made me who I am today. Things that you have gone through in the past are the same way Kitty. They have made you into the woman I am so in love with, my woman, the one I cannot live without. You are the one who gives me the strength to go on and survive from day to day. Please don't cry Kitty."
Before she can utter another sob, his warm lips are pressed against hers, and his arms are tight around her.
It is late afternoon. She can hear the prairie birds calling outside the window. She is on the soft bed with the sweet smelling sheets, covered with the handmade quilt in soft greens and yellows. Next to her lies the smiling face of the gentlest man in the world.
He lies there watching this beautiful red head. Her tears are gone now. He has taken them away in the best way he knows how. Contentment – that is one of the feelings he remembers from the time before and he feels it totally now.
He can't help but wonder how Daniel Myers finished up in this shack half a days ride from Dodge. Somehow he would like to know.
It is their last evening out here alone together. They walk down to the river to watch the light fade.
Both feel the sadness that leaving this idyllic setting will bring, but meantime they still have one more night of wonder ahead.
Next morning they tidy the little shack, maybe life will let them come back here again one day. The wagon is packed and by mid afternoon they head south towards Dodge.
A few miles short of town, Matt pulls the wagon off the trail a little and under the shade of some cottonwoods. Taking Kitty in his arms he kisses her gently on the lips. Then, releasing her, he reaches in his vest pocket and pulls out that badge. As he pins it in its rightful place on his shirt, Kitty watches as change comes over him. The tough exterior gradually returns to envelop him. As they pull into Dodge, dusk is setting in and by then it is Marshal Dillon sitting there beside her.
Epilogue
There is a young couple at the edge of town by the name of Myers. Other than that Matt does not know a lot about them. He asks Doc who knows everything about everyone for miles around.
The Physician tells him that they are a nice young couple, he has delivered 3 babies for them– oldest must be 11 or so.
It is towards evening when he ties his horse in front of the small house on the edge of town. It is a very neat and well kept home, with a front porch on which there are scattered children's toys. A young girl is playing with a toddler. She looks at him as he walks up. She is intimidated by his size and grabs the toddler and heads towards the front door.
He lifts his hat. "I'm Marshal Dillon is your Pa here?"
She disappears inside and in a few minutes a young man probably about thirty years old, comes to talk to him. He reaches out his hand, "I'm glad to see you Marshal, wont you come in?"
Matt removes his hat and enters the house.
"Mrs. Myers," he acknowledges her as she is clearing the table from supper.
She offers him some pie – but he declines.
He looks at the young man, "What I really came here to ask you is if you are related to someone by the name of Daniel Myers?"
The man looked shocked for a minute.
"I haven't heard his name in a long time Marshal. He was my father's younger brother. I don't know much about him. My Pa hardly spoke of him. I never really knew why we came south from Michigan but my Pa wanted to move out here. For some reason his brother was here and he felt he should come keep an eye on him."
He picks up an old family picture with two young boys and an older couple.
"This was my Pa," he says pointing. "The other one is my uncle."
Matt looks at the old picture, the images are not very clear and there is really no information to be gained from it.
"Do you remember anything about him?"
"Not much, my Pa would ride out and visit with him sometimes, but there is only one time Uncle Daniel came into town here. It was after Pa died. He said he wanted to visit the Long Branch Saloon. I took him into town and stayed with him all evening. I don't visit saloons Marshal- don't have time really with work, home and the children. It was strange, my uncle just sat there all night watching a young saloon girl. He seemed to know her but didn't go talk to her or anything, just sat there all evening, watching. Next morning he went back out to his place – I have never been there but I think it is thirty of forty miles north of here. We never heard from him again. I can't tell you much more, Uncle Daniel never talked a lot, he never told us anything about himself. I'm sorry I can't be more helpful."
Matt looks at him and then pushes the metal box across the table to him.
"I have every reason to believe that your uncle is dead. I came across the shack where he lived out there on the prairie. I was caught out there in a storm a while back. It was obvious that the place had not been lived in for a long time – although it is in pretty good shape if you ever want to go out there. Anyway I came across this old box in the barn. I think you are his only relative so I am handing it over to you. There is nothing of value in there but it might hold some interest for you."
The box is just as he had found it, except that the lock was gone and three letters and a small silk handkerchief are missing. He figured they were already in the hands of their rightful owner.
It is the small hours of the morning before he climbs the stairs to Kitty's rooms. It had been a busy night. He knocks softly on the door and enters. Kitty is sitting there brushing her hair. He moves up behind her and puts his arms around her. He looks at her reflection in the mirror. "How is my Flower of the River?" he asks innocently, thinking how apt the old man's description was.
"Matt!" she turns around and stares at him, a fire in her eyes – "don't you ever,.."
He cuts her off with a finger to her lips, "I wouldn't dare," he laughs, but I do think the name suits you, something so soft and beautiful."
She relents and smiles at him as he takes the brush from her hand.
END