Defend Me from My Friends

by MAHC (Amanda)

Chapter 19: Nothing He Hadn't Done Before

POV: Kitty

Sighing, Kitty collapsed into the soft chair by the fireplace, tugging off the sodden cloak and trying in vain to pull some warmth to her chilled body from the dying embers. She rubbed at bloodshot, stinging eyes and drew in a deep breath, leaning forward in the chair she had occupied almost constantly for the past week as she waited, hoped, and prayed.

"It's over?"

She turned toward the strained voice and smiled sadly, nodding at the long, battered frame that had been laid out on her bed ever since they had limped back into Dodge trailing three dead and another much too close to it.

The frame shifted, then groaned as long fingers reached out to her. "Thank you for going, Kitty."

Pushing wearily from the chair, she walked to the bed, catching his outstretched hand and bringing it to her lips, brushing gently, gratefully. "It wasn't a problem."

"I know better," he murmured, and she flinched at the uncharacteristically weak tone. "I 'preciate it."

Kitty let her other hand cup his jaw as she looked carefully at him. The face, bruised, cut, and swollen, was still the most handsome she had ever laid eyes on, and she told him so. His hoarse chuckle was the first genuine bit of cheer he had shown in days, even if it drew a quick grimace to the battered features.

"Glenn didn't have anybody. Not here anyway." He let out a hard breath. "Except maybe – me, in a strange way."

"I'm sorry, Matt," she said, sliding her hand gently over the strong curve of his bare shoulder. At his questioning gaze, she added, "About Glenn. I know you wanted to believe him. I know it was hard to realize –"

Pursing his lips and shaking his head gingerly, Matt interrupted her. "I never really – believed him, Kitty. Not even back then. I just – hoped, I guess, that he'd changed."

"Not everybody can be like you, Cowboy." Her fingers entwined in his, caressing slowly, and she eased herself onto the side of the bed.

He winced as he tried to shift his aching body. "Glenn wasn't – that bad, at least he – didn't start off that way." With a heavy sigh, he let his head fall back onto the pillow. Kitty saw the fatigue and pain clearly on his face. "He just didn't have a real – direction in life."

She smiled, surprised. "That's pretty deep."

Matt rolled his eyes, cheeks flushing a bit in embarrassed acknowledgement.

Humor disappearing, she swallowed, eyes moist. "I'm just so grateful he was such a bad shot out there. I thought – "

He squeezed her hand.

She squeezed back. "I was so afraid you were – you were –" Forcing back tears that threatened with the fear that had come too horribly close to reality, she took a breath and continued more calmly, "But he missed, thank God. I don't know how, but – "

Matt lifted his brow and looked up at her, lips curving in the shadow of an ironic smile. "Glenn didn't miss, Kitty."

Her fine brows drew together in a frown. "You said that at the cabin. What do you – "

"He skimmed me on – purpose, so Layton would leave us – leave you."

Mouth open in shock, she shook her head. "I can't believe – "

He released her hand and brushed at his chin with bruised, torn knuckles. "He told me, warned me not to move, remember?"

"I just thought – "

"Glenn's a sure shot," he reminded her, then amended in a whisper, "was."

"But why?"

He shrugged, cutting off the move abruptly when his body protested again. "Figured he owed me, I guess."

"From the war?"

He nodded. "But he didn't know that I – at least I thought I – "

"Shot him," she finished, gently reminding him that she had heard his feverish cries at the cabin. Then, realizing what he said, she asked, "You didn't?"

"Doesn't matter. Not anymore."

She peered at him, easily reading his desire to let the issue drop. "What happened to Layton out there?"

"Not sure, but Glenn intentionally – drew his fire so Chester had a shot." He swallowed and closed his eyes. "He claimed his – gun wasn't loaded, but – "

Kitty watched as his lips pressed together hard and he swallowed again. "But it was," she guessed.

"Yeah," he confirmed, glancing up at her.

Her opinion of Glenn Cantrell shifted a bit at this unexpected revelation, and she felt a sudden flood of pity for a man who might have been good deep within but never had the chance to break through the chains tying him to the mistakes of youth.

Matt's eyes had closed again, the lines around them tight. Brushing her fingers through the damp hair at his temple, Kitty leaned over and pressed a kiss against his forehead, still warm with fever. A fleeting smile was his only response. She watched him for another few minutes, grateful to hear his breathing grow slow and steady and see his features relax. Bending once again, she let their lips touch, hers warm and soft, his bruised and cut.

"Miss Kitty, I – " The door flew open, and Chester swung into the room, his cheerful greeting tumbling into silent air as his eyes took in the scene before him. "Oh! I'm – I'm mighty sorry, Miss Kitty. I didn't mean to interrupt – " Cheeks pink, he flung a hand up as if to shield his vision and turned to leave.

"Wait," she called, briefly caressing Matt's swollen jaw before easing off the bed and enveloping the other man in a tender hug. "You aren't interrupting, Chester. I'm glad you're here. I haven't really gotten a chance to thank you for saving Matt's life."

The assistant blushed deeper and ducked his head. "Well, forevermore, Miss Kitty, I didn't do nothin' Mister Dillon ain't done fer me or a bunch of other folks before."

She couldn't argue with that but knew that it took a great deal of courage for Chester to do what he had done. "Still, you were very brave." Reaching up to brush at the bandage around his head, she added, "And you even got wounded yourself."

A proud grin broke across his face. "Well, yeah, yeah I did. 'Course you know I'd do anything for Mister Dillon. 'Sides, Doc said I'd be all right." He paused, then added seriously, "After a while."

Kitty patted him fondly on the shoulder. "And I'm grateful."

"How's Mister Dillon doin'?" Chester asked, smile disappearing.

"Oh, he's – he's doing just fine," she assured him, hoping it was the truth.

"I sure hope so." He clicked his tongue against his teeth. "I don't mind tellin' ya he sure had me worried on the way back, rantin' and thrashin' and talkin' outta his head."

Kitty's heart ached at the thought, at the memory of what dreadful shape Matt had been in when Chester finally got him back to the cabin. It hurt to consider how close she had come to losing him.

"But you know Mister Dillon," Chester hastened to add at the expression on her face. "Nothin's gonna keep him down long. Why don't you just go on back over there and set a spell with him. And tell him not to worry; I'll take care of everything in Dodge."

She smiled at his confidence. "I'm sure you will."

He opened the door, then turned back, snapping his fingers. "I like ta' forgot. I come ta tell Mister Dillon about that money Cantrell said was hid at the Long Branch."

She remembered hearing Matt mumble something about that but figured it was from the Pueblo robbery. "What about it?"

His answer was to reach into his front pants' pocket and extract a grimy, creased piece of paper. With a strange look on his face, he held it out for her. Kitty unfolded it and ran her gaze over the dark, bold print.

Blue eyes widening, she looked up, meeting a similar expression from him.

"Oh my god!"

TBC