Two

The next morning, she rented a little mare from Moss Grimmick and rode out to the Roniger farm, to seek the aid of her friend Bessie. Knowing what an excellent cook the farm wife was, Kitty was certain she would be able to take one bite of the slice of apple cake and determine the ingredients.

The Roniger house was a small frame structure, still bearing the aroma of freshly milled lumber. There was a swing and a bright red geranium on the front porch. Inside, wide plank floors were decorated with rag rugs. The furniture in the main room consisted of a cradle, two rocking chairs flanking the hearth and a small round table with four chairs located near a small cook stove.

The two women sat at the table, before them on a plate of Blue Willow rested the slice of cake. "Why don't you just ask Susan for her recipe." Bessie asked, before taking a sip from her coffee cup.

"I'd rather eat dirt." Kitty declared vehemently.

"Well, then I'll ask her." Bessie said cheerfully. "After all, she is my neighbor."

"Don't you dare Bessie Roniger, she knows you and I are friends and she'll figure out that you're asking for me." Kitty shot back.

Bessie opened her mouth to argue the point, but seeing the look in Kitty's eye she decided to taste test Susan Bart's apple cake instead. She took a very small forkful. "Yuck!" She wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Good heavens, why on earth do you want to know how to make that?"

"Because, Matt said it tasted just like the cake his mother made when he was a little boy. Don't you see Bessie? If I could make it for Matt's birthday, it would show I'm more than just a saloon girl."

Four-month-old William Roniger, Jr. started fussing in his cradle. Bessie put down her coffee cup and started to rise from the table. But, Kitty was already there, picking little Willie up from his bed. She stood with her back to Bessie, just savoring the experience. Oh, how she loved the feel of his tiny warm body snuggling close to hers, she loved the sweet baby scent of him, and she loved his dear toothless grin. She'd never known a baby before little Willie and the strong attachment she felt for him was a surprise to her. Finally she turned to look at Bessie and admitted. "I know absolutely nothing about baking a cake, I never had a chance to learn how when I was young."

Bessie's heart melted as it often did when she thought of Kitty's past. "Well," she declared brightly, "there's no time like the present to learn."

Kitty beamed back at Bessie. "Thank you!"

So right there and then, Bessie Roniger began to educate Kitty in the finer aspects of baking a cake. They sifted and measured and cracked eggs and shredded apples and baked and baked. Kitty's fine mind appreciated the exactness of the undertaking, while her creative instincts loved making something out of nothing. They produced two cakes that morning, but neither of them tasted like Susan Bart's cake. The cakes Kitty and Bessie baked tasted good. Kitty apologized to friend for forcing her to spend half the day baking, but Bessie just laughed, "Oh Kitty, it's always fun to have you around. We'll just keep trying until we come up with the right recipe. Don't you fret, the cakes we made today won't go to waste. Come back tomorrow morning and we'll try again."

When Kitty returned to the Long Branch that afternoon she allowed herself the luxury of a long bath. Thinking of the evening ahead she used a very expensive scented bath powder that had come all the way from New Orléans. The fragrance always had a stimulating effect on Matt Dillon. He had asked her to dinner at Delmonico's, and since she wasn't scheduled to work until later in the evening, she was looking forward to a little private time with him. She was standing in front of her dressing table brushing her hair, and admiring her bangs, which were for once just the perfect length. There was a knock at the door, "Who is it", she asked.

"It's Matt," his reply.

"The door's open come on in." she invited.

Dillon entered the small but tidy room. Kitty was dressed only in a champagne colored silk wrap robe delicately trimmed with ivory lace. His breath caught in his throat as he admired the double image the mirror afforded him.

"You're early Cowboy, I'm not ready yet." Kitty told him.

Dillon swallowed hard, trying to concentrate on his mission; he had to break their date. "Ah Kitty, about tonight..." he started. She turned from the mirror to face him and any preplanned speech was forgotten as he drank in the sight of her tempting beauty.

"What about tonight?" her voice was so soft and low; he had to concentrate to hear what she said. She walked over to him, leaning in, standing on tiptoe, wrapping her arms around his neck, "have you got special plans for tonight, big guy?"

"Ah, yes, Kitty...I've got..." Her splayed fingers pressed his body intimately close to hers. His concentration was waning.

"Yes? " she prompted huskily, with her mouth only inches from his.

"Ah yes... I've got ah, ahhhh," he stuttered and then their lips met. He was losing himself in the passion. His lips sought her neck feeling her rapid pulse echoing the beat of his own heart. The silk tie holding her gown together slipped apart, revealing a feast for his heart and soul.

She sighed, "Oh Matt, I'm so glad you got here early."

Reality jabbed Dillon in the gut, "Damn!" Duty suddenly reminding him of his obligations. He was not hers this evening. Taking her by the arms, he pushed her away from him and then pulled her robe closed. He took a deep breath. A grimace crossed his face at the thought of the sweetness that might have been, and the reality of what was about to happen. He thrust his hands into his front pockets. "Kitty, about tonight. I'm afraid I have to break our date, something came up, I mean, I've got business to attend to."

Kitty Russell stood looking at him, her mouth open, and her eyes unblinking. "You what?" she asked incredulously.

"Sorry Kitty, it's the job, I've gotta go, maybe we can do it tomorrow night, huh?" he asked hopefully.

Sparks of anger flashed in her eyes, "You come in here, kiss me like that, and then say maybe we can do IT tomorrow night?" Her voice was rising, her magnificent breasts heaving, anger fueling her passion now. "Get out!" she shouted.

Dillon stared at her, not sure if he should stay and try to reason with her. She picked up a perfume bottle from the dressing table and as he saw the direction it was aimed, made up his mind to make his exit. The bottle hit the door just as he closed it.

Kitty Russell sat down on her bed, folded her arms across her chest, her eyes narrowed and her mouth set in a firm line. "How dare he!" she thought. She may have stayed angry for a long time, had her memory not drifted back to the feel of his skilled hands on her willing body and his sensual lips pressed to hers. She hugged herself then. Gave a long sigh, a regretful smile, and thought, "yes, maybe tomorrow night…"