Chapter Twenty Two

The man limped wearily from Grimmick's stable in the direction of the Long Branch, hoping a cold beer in a familiar place would be enough of a welcome back to Dodge City. He had been gone far too long to expect anyone to remember him and what seemed like a good idea two days ago no longer did. His old friends, if they were even still around, wouldn't necessarily be glad to see him. He hadn't exactly left town on bad terms, but leaving abruptly out of dissatisfaction with your life didn't exactly leave time for proper goodbyes. After finally making the decision to go, there was barely time to let his employer know he was leaving and have one last beer and he was off.

It took a moment to realize the red-haired woman who looked up from the ledger as he walked in was not Kitty Russell. "Afternoon, stranger, what'll you have?" she asked in a gruff but kind voice.

"Beer," the man stammered as he tossed a coin onto the bar. He was grateful the woman looked up when she had, for although she was obviously older and taller, she wore a dress as fine as anything he remembered Miss Kitty wearing, and he had probably been seconds away from making a fool of himself and, worse starting a discussion he didn't really want to have. Miss Kitty's absence from the Long Branch raised questions he wasn't sure he wanted the answers to.

The woman went back to her bookwork at the end of the bar and the man leaned on one elbow, drinking his beer and glancing around the saloon. Somewhat relieved to see no one he recognized, he figured he could finish his beer and slip back out of town unnoticed once his horses had been rested and fed and the shoe Lefty had been threatening to throw was replaced. At the opposite end of the bar a group of men was talking, and the man on the outside of the group closest to him was holding forth, judging by the sound of things, with some gossip that the others weren't particularly interested in.

"It doesn't strike the rest of you as peculiar, after all that time? What other reason could there be for the two of them-" the dark haired man was cut off by a gray-haired man who looked vaguely familiar to the stranger as being a rancher.

"Well, what difference does it make, Burke? Not like they're the first couple to hitch the cart before the horse."

A blond, mustached man offered his opinion. "What business is it of ours, anyway? Let the womenfolk count the months if they want to. I got better things to do."

"All I'm sayin'," the man named Burke continued, "is if a man wants to get married it doesn't take him that long to propose. Seems like a mighty cheap way to get a man to the altar, if you ask me."

The stranger heard an irritated sigh from the woman doing books at the end of the bar. He drained his mug of beer and let it drop with a thud. A little gossip was one thing, but this Burke had just crossed the line to downright insulting.

"Now, looka here, mister," he said with much more bravado than he felt, "that ain't no way to go talkin' about a lady!"

Burke turned and eyed the stranger disdainfully. "You say something to me?"

"I said, you oughtn't to be insultin' a lady like that!"

"Well, mister," Burke said somewhat belligerently, "since I've never seen you around here before, I'd say you don't know what you're talking about. So why don't you mind your own business."

"Look who's talkin' about minding your own business!" The stranger had had enough of this blowhard. Without thinking he drew back his right fist, and before Nathan Burke realized what was coming, the other man landed a punch that sent Burke flying backwards. The other men moved back and let Burke fall to the floor, looking down at him with some satisfaction.

"He's out cold!" the gray-haired rancher observed. Several men in the saloon whooped and cheered and someone made a comment about "the jawbone of an ass."

The stranger turned to the woman working the bar and tipped his hat, figuring it might be in his best interest to make himself scarce before the law showed up. "Sorry for the disturbance, ma'am," he said, tipping his hat.

"Well, someone needed to do it," the woman said. "How about a beer on the house?"

"Ma'am?"

The woman nodded her head in Burke's direction. "From what I hear, he's had that coming for years. Mighty poor way to talk about someone who saved your life, if you ask me."

He had no idea to what the woman was referring, but he wasn't interested in sticking around to find out. "Much obliged for the beer, ma'am," he said, tipping his hat again, "but I'll be going now." He scurried out the swinging doors of the Long Branch as fast as his bad leg would let him, hoping the horses were about ready to go so he could get out of town before Nathan Burke woke up and started looking for him. He was headed in the direction of the stable when he heard a familiar voice calling his name.

Kitty had spent the last couple of hours doing some early Christmas shopping and window shopping for things for the baby. She walked out of the general store carrying a few more packages than Doc would like, but she was on her way to find Matt, and he would carry them the rest of the way for her. She was about to turn in the direction of the jail when a man came limping hurriedly out of the Long Branch, heading in the direction of the stable. The man's stiff-legged gait looked familiar and she watched him for a minute, finally calling out his name before he got too far away to hear her.

"Chester? Chester Goode?"

Oh, the rabbit run, the rabbit flew, the rabbit tore his tail in two

Run rabbit run, the dogs'll catch you

Run, rabbit run, you better get away

A/N This chapter is for SingerMe who felt that someone needed to punch Burke. I'm happy to oblige.

I am not able to find any copyright information on "Run, Rabbit, Run."