It has been two days since the Reynolds gang was taken down, and praise from Washington and other quarters continued to fall Matt's way. It embarrassed him. He sat with Gail at a back table in the Long Branch, and shook his head as he read another telegram congratulating him. "Gail, I was just doing my job."
"So you say." She smiled weakly. His eyes wandered over her face. Weight loss made her cheek bones prominent, and her skin almost translucent in its paleness. "Gail, I have a couple of hours free. If you can get away, I'll get a basket of food from Delmonico's and borrow a rig. We'll ride out to Benson's Creek, get you away from all this stuffy air and cigar smoke." She visibly perked up. "I'd love that Matt. It's such a hot, sticky day. Hannah owes me for closing the place a couple of nights. I'm sure she won't mind."
An hour later they were sitting on a blanket, by the creek watching the foamy blue water bubble by. Biting into fresh baked bread, covered with creamy butter, Gail closed her eyes and took a long breath. "Funny, Matt, how much there is to appreciate – I mean small things. The fresh breeze, the taste of warm bread, the shimmering water, the beautiful sky, sitting with a friend." She laughed. "Of course people can't spend every day counting every blessing. Nothing would get done." She sighed and looked at Matt. "But I try to take it all in."
Matt pulled a bottle of wine from the basket, uncorked it and handed it to Gail. She took a long swallow and passed it back. He took a small sip, and another, and set the bottle on the ground. "I guess a lot of us appreciate things most, after getting through a dangerous situation, or a hard time like a drought. There've been other times for me, like stopping to look over the bat wing doors of the Long Branch before going in, and watching Kitty for a second or two. She'd be listening to some old timer's tale or laughing with the bartender, and look so alive, and so damn beautiful." Matt picked up the bottle and took another swallow. "I miss her, I guess I always will, but I couldn't give her what she needed."
Gail leaned closer. Matt never talked about Kitty, and right now it seemed he needed to. "What couldn't you give her, Matt?" He wiped his hand across his mouth, and handed Gail the bottle. "My job is dangerous, I could get killed any day, so I always thought it wrong to marry and have a family while I wore the badge. We fought some battles over that, Kitty and me. She left three or four times, swearing up and down she never wanted to see me or my damn badge again." Matt smiled crookedly. "She has quite a temper. But she always came back. One time I found out where she was, and went to her. We had real ups and downs, but Kitty always decided to stay with me – until now. In the end she wanted to map out some sort of plan, for some day in the future, and I can't."
"So she was willing to wait for marriage and a home with you, but needed to have some plan – something concrete to look forward to, even with no specific date attached? Matt, why couldn't you do that?"
He stared into the glistening creek, and finally whispered. "Too scared."
"Scared of what?"
Matt shook his head, still staring straight ahead. ".I've worn this marshal's badge for 20 years. In that time I've seen a lot of lawman taken down. I survived. Skill, grit, and a certain way of thinking got me through a lot of situations. Doc's skill pulled me through some others. But along with that went plain, dumb luck. An outlaw makes an error, a bullet get deflected by my badge, a thousand other tiny things. Somewhere deep inside, I started to believe that planning for a year or two or three from now, showed I assumed that I'd keep being lucky. It would be like tempting fate. If my thoughts were on the future, I'd lose my edge, and Lady Luck would laugh and turn her back on me. Sounds crazy, right?"
"No, not crazy, just human."
He shook his head. "Whatever you want to call it, I've lost Kitty, this time for keeps." Matt swallowed hard. "I hope she's found what she's looking for. She deserves it." He turned to look at Gail. "You deserve to have so much too." She took another swig of wine. "And I'm enjoying what I have right here and now. That includes a friend who cares."
St. Louis
"Ohhh Kitty." Monica Mason hurried down the boulevard waving frantically. Kitty turned. "Hello Monica, I'm afraid I have only a moment to chat, I'm on my way to meet John for lunch."
"I won't keep you, dear, I'll walk along" She smiled broadly. "And a glance at your hand tells me the rumors are true. My, what lovely engagement ring, and such a large diamond. Congratulations." She gave Kitty a peck on each cheek. "As time goes on, if you need advice on hiring servants, giving parties, or what events you simply must attend, I'm here for you. I practically wrote the book on it all. Oh, here's John's bank. Have a nice lunch." Monica smiled and hurried off. Kitty smiled back and waved, but a strange feeling washed over her. For the first time ever she'd be living by the book, fitting a mold, fulfilling a long list of expectations. What of it, she loved John and they were going to share a beautiful future.
She pushed through the heavy door of the St. Louis Savings and Loan and looked up at the vaulted ceilings. The building looked almost more like a cathedral than a place of business. A razor thin man, in a dark suit and tie, greeted her politely. "Good morning. May I be of assistance?'
"Thank you, I'm looking for John Hanover's office."
"May I ask if you have an appointment?" Kitty smiled. "Yes, my name is Kitty Russell. I'm John's fiance."
"Of course.' The man stood even straighter. "Right this way." Their steps echoed as he led her down a long hallway, to a large office in the rear of the bank. John stepped out from behind his desk and smiled. "Right on time my love. Your punctuality is appreciated. I have an important appointment in exactly one hour. They left arm and arm, and were soon seated in a brightly lit bistro, eating soup and fresh baked rolls. "Kitty, I know we haven't set a date for the wedding, but perhaps you should give your out of town guests a general idea, so they can start thinking about travel plans."
"John, this is a second marriage for you. Perhaps we should keep it small and intimate."
"But Kitty, this is your first. I assumed you'd want all the pomp and circumstance possible, with everyone you've ever known to witness it."
Kitty took a roll and slowly buttered it. Doc and her other friends from Dodge, would be happy for her, she was sure of that. But there was no way on earth, she could invite Matt. If Doc and the others were here without Matt, they would all feel his absence. And in their minds they'd start comparing John to Matt, even if they didn't want to. No, as much as she'd love to see Festus mingling with St. Louis society women, it was best to keep her past and future separate. No one in Dodge knew where she was, and it was going to stay that way. Perhaps one day, far in the future, she'd write a letter to Doc.
She leaned across the table and looked into John's eyes. "It's so thoughtful of you to mention it, but I would prefer a more intimate ceremony and the reception can be a purely St. Louis social event.
Dodge
Matt dropped Gail off in front of the Long Branch. "After I get the rig back to the stable, I'll be in my office if you need anything. Doc's around too, if you need him."
"Thanks Matt. This outing was what I needed. You're a good friend." She squeezed his hand and pushed through the batwing doors.
He dropped the rig off and headed down Front Street, planning his afternoon. Reports to write, wanted posters to look through, a meeting with business owners about problems they'd been having. His strides lengthened as he walked.
"Dillon." An unshaven, red-eyed stranger stepped out from an alley, and blocked Matt's way. The marshal stopped short. The man sneered. "My name's Reynolds, Neil Reynolds. You brought a lot of trouble to my family, friends and acquaintances. Right fine men who joined my gang for fun and profit. Some are dead, and a lot locked up in jail. I'm getting revenge for all of them. That's what real men do." Eyes still on Matt, Reynolds walked out into the middle of the street and stood in the bright sunlight. "Get out here and face me. Like a real man."
Matt stayed where was, "What about your brother Jerry? What was he – 12 years old? You left him to die alone. Is that what real men do?"
"Jerry – how did you know about him?" Realization crossed Reynolds face. "You found him, didn't you? He told you about the meeting places, that's how you knew. Damn, I should have put a bullet in the kids head before leaving him there in that bear trap. Guess I have to make up for it, by making sure you die, right here and now. Get out in the street and face me Dillon. Move now, or I'll put bullets in a few of those fine people standing around, before anyone can stop me."
Matt glanced around. Women, men and children were in doorways, windows, in front of stores. Reynolds could easily shoot in one or two of them, before being taken down. "All right, Reynolds, have it your way." Matt stepped off the walkway.
Hearing the commotion, a crowd gathered at a safe distance. Gail hurried to Doc, standing outside the Long Branch. "Matt was on a picnic with me and drank some wine. That gonna slow him?" Doc shook his head. "Matt never gets drunk. A little wine with food won't matter." Doc rubbed his mustache. "Matt's fast." The words were both prayer and statement. Festus stood beside them. "Matthew can take 'em."
Matt reached the middle of the street and turned to face Neil Reynolds, eyes steadily fixed on the man. Oddly Neil's eyes darted off to the side for an instant. He shifted on feet. His eyes darted off again. Nerves showing, he swallowed, hand poised at his gun. Matt waited. Neil's fingers moved. Matt fired first. Neil crumbled to the ground. The crowd relaxed. Matt holstered his pistol and strode towards the body. A shot flew from a 2nd floor window – Matt doubled over, staggered two steps and fell. Chaos. Folks ran, ducked, looked around. Doc raced to Matt. Festus scanned the upstairs windows, and saw a man inside an empty warehouse. The hillman grabbed his gun and raced into the building. A man resembling Neil Reynolds was fleeing down the stairs. He saw Festus, froze and raised his rifle. Festus fired. The man rolled down the steps. The deputy bent over the bleeding body. You a Reynolds?" The man weakly nodded."There wasn't supposed to be no gunfight. I was gonna shoot Dillon when my brother got him standing in the sunlight. Rifle jammed. But I fixed it and finally got him." Festus shook his head. "Ya got 'em but he ain't dead" The last Reynolds brother died an unhappy man. Festus left the body to deal with later, and ran to Doc's, hoping what he said was true, and Matt was still alive.
Three men where coming down the steps from Doc's when Festus got there, expressions grim, clothes bloodied. "Ya three musta carried Matthew up thar. He – he's alive ain't he – still in the buggy?"
"He's hanging on, Festus, but even we can tell it ain't by much." The men split up to talk to the folks who'd gathered around, waiting for word about Matt;'s condition. Festus hurried up the stairs and quietly opened the door.
Hannah was setting water to boil, Gail was cutting up bandages, Ma Smalley stood beside Doc ready to do whatever he needed. Doc's eyes were on Matt, but he felt Festus by his side. "Stomach wound, it's bad." Setting all emotions aside, Doc probed the wound with steady hands, pushing forceps deeper and deeper. He gripped the slippery bullet, but the hold was tenuous. Saying a silent prayer he yanked, and with a sigh of relief, dropped the bullet on the table. "Ma hand me that thread, Gail keep the bandages coming. I have to sew him up and stop the bleeding. Festus and Hannah be ready to get your hands under his ribs to lift him some, so I can wrap his abdomen."
They worked quickly. The only sounds were quiet commands from Doc. When they finished, their hands and clothes were splattered with Matt's blood.
"Well, his pulse is thready, and his breathing shallow but he's not dead." Doc looked at Festus. "Who shot him, another Reynolds?"
"Yep, the last of 'em. He was gonna shoot Matthew from the window, before the gunfight. Had a clear shot too, but his gun jammed. Now the last o' them Reynolds brothers is dead and Mathew's alive." Doc ran a hand across his mustache. "Barely, Festus, barely."
TBC