Don't you draw the queen of diamonds boy
she'll beat you if she's able
You know the queen of hearts is always your best bet
"Desperado" Sung by The Eagles, written by Don Henley and Glenn Frey
Chapter Two
On his way home from Hays, Matt slowed his horse to a walk and held the reins loosely, trusting Buck to know the way while he did some thinking. Riding alone on the prairie in between duties was the most peaceful part of his job, but it could also be the toughest part, outside of being shot at or having to shoot someone else. It gave him time to think things through, or be tormented by the things which couldn't be thought through that easily. Just lately the things he couldn't seem to work through had nothing to do with shooting, although it was certainly a shooting which had started his mind down the path it had been on the last few months. It had been a rough couple of years, particularly for the beautiful redhead waiting for him. He counted himself lucky she was still waiting for him. Matt Dillon wasn't a church-going man, but he knew he owed a large debt to the Man upstairs that she was still there to decide whether to wait for him or not. When he rode out of Dodge alone with his arm in a sling, not knowing if he'd ever be back, he wasn't at all sure she'd still be there if he did come back. There had been a long stretch of time during which he'd taken her presence for granted, but the last year had taken its toll on her, and on them, and he knew he couldn't be sure of anything.
Nearly losing her twice in less than two months should have been enough for him to get his head on straight about where things stood with them, but for some reason it hadn't. He didn't suppose he'd ever know whether or not the shotgun she was holding on Cord Wrecken when he shot him was loaded-he doubted if she had checked afterward to find out either. He had simply reminded himself that she was capable of holding her own without him in a crisis. In the middle of the somber thought of what might have happened if he hadn't gotten to Wrecken when he had, he had to chuckle at the memory of her, along with her cat, gaining the upper hand over a man who attempted to rob her, before he had any idea of the situation. The chuckle died when he thought of Bonner. The worst of the worst that had ever happened to her. He was still wrestling with guilt that Bonner had taken it out on her and not him. Looking at her battered body and hearing Doc say he didn't think she wanted to live, he knew he would die, too, if the unthinkable happened, and that he would take Bonner to hell with him. But what had he done, and said? "I need you, Kitty." That was the best he could do. She deserved to finally hear what she needed to hear, and he still couldn't give it to her, even then. By some miracle, she had understood, looked at him, tried to say his name before turning her head away. His next actions caused him to hang his head in shame. Waiting only until Doc said he thought she would live, taking off his badge to get his revenge. Knowing she would understand why he wasn't at her side the first time she woke, asking for him. She deserved better. Bonner could have waited. Wouldn't have hurt him a bit to stew for a while, wondering when Dillon was coming after him. If only he hadn't been so caught up in what he needed that he couldn't see what she needed. And, he finally admitted to himself, he'd been too much of a coward to witness her suffering any longer. Matt knew more thanks were in order that Bonner hadn't managed to destroy her mind and her heart, though her body was healed long before they came back completely.
By the time Dan Whelan and his men came to town, she had come back to herself enough to best them in a game of poker-Sam was the one who explained to him just how high the stakes were. Knowing just where to look when he'd pulled the card from her collar, he hadn't been a bit surprised at which card she'd been holding and didn't spend much time wondering whether it was by chance or by design. She knew as well as he did what could have happened if anyone had missed the card; as for him, he knew one sorry poker player who would have missed his queen of hearts if she'd been found out.
And of course in the last year it had been Kitty's heart, and their relationship, which had been in danger. It chilled him when he thought of how close he came, however unknowingly, to giving another woman what was rightfully Kitty's. How his remembering who he was in time had depended on the willingness of two people, both with reasons not to, to speak up. She had eventually forgiven him, but he hadn't yet forgotten the hurt in her eyes when he told her. And another stupid fight, over a ruined trip, had her standing in the jail in front of him talking about the far off someday she had always hoped for, with him. He remembered what he saw in her eyes when she asked him to tell her to tell Will Stambridge "no." Won't you please fight for me, Cowboy? Fight for us? Are you really just going to let me go? She was begging for him to make a commitment. Since when did Kitty Russell ever beg anyone for anything? And he couldn't give it to her. After what had almost happened with Mike, what did happen with Mike, what right did he have to stand in the way of her happiness? In the end, she made the decision, as always, to be with him, but it had been an uneasy time for them since, neither of them quite as sure of the other as they had been previously. Could they withstand another Will Stambridge? another Mike Yardner? He couldn't remember how long it had been since he'd truly thought of theirs as a "non-permanent relationship," but all these years he'd been telling himself he was protecting her by keeping that from her. Didn't want her to hope for something that could be torn away at any time. She made it quite clear, that day in the jail, that she had held onto that hope from the beginning, anyway. All those years of reading each other, all the things they never had to say in words...why didn't they both know that about the other?
"We did. We just didn't know we did," he said aloud. It seemed as though some explanations were in order after all.
And Mary. This was possibly the most shameful of all. After everything she'd lost, everything she'd given up to be with him, how could he have just dismissed what that baby meant to her? Again, it was his selfish pride, trying to make up for killing Eli Baines, that kept him from seeing it, even after Doc explained it to him. When she was finally ready to talk about it, he learned that it was Mrs. Baines appeal to her that "only a woman who's carried a child knows the loss" which had changed her mind. Kitty did know that loss, and he marveled at her unselfishness in giving up the child to someone she felt had lost more.
Noticing the sunset, Matt realized he must have spent a great deal more time thinking than he'd planned on. Even without stopping to eat, he was going to get to Dodge much later than he wanted to. "Giddup," he told Buck, giving him a light tap. There was a lady in Dodge who'd been waiting way too long for him to buy her that drink.
Matt waited, and she suddenly realized she had no words prepared for what she was about to tell him. "It's...really late," she said, glancing over at the clock. "I think it's time we both got some sleep. You must be exhausted from riding so late."
"I don't think you were done talking, Kitty." Matt gave her a look that said he wasn't buying her attempt to change the subject. He settled back into the corner of the settee, studying her face. "I'm listening."