The Next Morning Dodge

Outside his office, Matt leaned back against the building and tugged his hat down to shield his eyes from the bright morning sun. Thoughts of Kitty swirled in his head. When he left for Kramer's trial he thought she understood. She was disappointed when he said he couldn't take her to the sociable, but when she learned why, she was adamant and vocal about her opinion. She said that Kramer was an evil man who had to be stopped and she wanted the vicious killer to get everything he deserved. A short time later she walked him to the stable and wished him luck. Now it seemed she was angry with him for going. It didn't make any sense.

"Marshal Matt Dillon."

Matt's head snapped up. He'd been so deep in thought he hadn't heard anyone approach. He pushed his hat back and found himself looking into the light brown eyes of a beautiful blond in her 20's. Her eyes brimmed with recognition, but he couldn't place her.

"M-a-tt." She drew his name out and big grin filled her face.

"By golly, I don't believe it, Missy Coleman, or should I call you by your given name Margarita?"

She laughed, "Missy, is fine for a few good friends. You're in that select group of course.

"What a surprise. What brings you to Dodge?"

"Well, I'm traveling and since I had an opportunity to stop here, I wanted to look in on the great and glorious Matt Dillon, US Marshal."

"Great and glorious sure doesn't apply to me." He gave a short laugh.

"You'd be surprised how your name is spoken. You have quite the reputation."

Matt nodded, "I have an idea how my name is spoken and believe me, lots of those words aren't fit for decent ears." He pushed open the door to his office, "Come on in and have some coffee."

Inside Missy took a sip of steaming coffee and her eyes widened. Matt laughed, "My deputy, Festus, makes it. It's always a surprise." He took a sip. "It's been worse."

She took a second swallow and nodded, "It's getting worse by the minute."

They burst out laughing and when their laughter died down, they met each other's eyes and starting laughing again.

The door banged open, "Mathew, the Smythes an Maxwells are at it agin …" Festus spotted Missy and quickly yanked off his hat. "Sorry, Matthew. Ah didn't know yah was havin a meetin."

Missy extended her hand, "My name's Margarita. You must be Festus, the maker of this fine coffee."

Matt swallowed a smile, "Festus what's this about the Smythes and Maxwells? Are they still arguing about a few chickens that don't respect property lines?

"Yep, same darn thang every couple a weeks."

"I'll head out there." Matt grabbed his hat and raised an eyebrow at Missy, "It's great and glorious work."

"Matthew, ya want me ta go along?"

"No need Festus." Matt leaned down towards Missy. "How about dinner tonight?"

"I'd like that Matt."

"I'll pick you up at 7:00. Are you staying at Ma Smalley's boarding house?"

"Yes, the stagecoach driver said it was the best place for ladies."

Kitty

Kitty arrived in St. Louis and took a hansom cab to the Mayfair Hotel. The Mayfair was expensive, but she chose it because it had a reputation for grandness and was right next door to the convention center. When the driver pulled up outside the hotel she wasn't disappointed. It was grand indeed. Everything from the ornate architecture to the doormen, in stylish red uniforms, seemed perfect. The cabby carried her luggage inside and Kitty walked across the lushly carpeted floor to the registration desk.

A bespectacled clerk looked up. "Can I help you Madam?"

"I would like a room. I'm here for the convention."

"For the convention?" He looked at her skeptically,

"Yes, the Western Association of Saloon Owners convention."

"Ah, so you're waiting for your husband? Since being employed here I've become familiar with couples who work together in business." He smiled for the first time. "I'm a modern thinking man and I think it's nice when a businessman allows his wife a place in his business."

"Actually, I own my own business. Now, I'd like a room, preferable one with a nice view."

Taken aback by her statement and her forthright tone, he grumpily reached up and grabbed a key from a rack. "Room 412, on the 4th floor of course, the ladies floor.

She lifted an eyebrow, "ladies floor?"

"Yes, for ladies who are here alone. They can feel safe and secure, and the rooms are - cozier and homier than our other rooms."

"You mean smaller and plainer, yet I'm sure the price is the same that a man would pay for a larger, more attractive room."

He shrugged and dangled the key in front of her face.

"Never mind." She stormed away.

The cabby who'd carried her luggage was still in the lobby. He'd overheard the conversation and looked at her sympathetically. She went over, "Do you have any ideas about a good hotel?"

"Well, there is the Longwood Hotel for Ladies. Lot's of fine ladies stay there and seem to like it."

She let out a sigh. "Let's give it a try."

He drove her to around the corner to the Longwood. It was a plain granite building, but once inside Kitty was shown to a bright, spacious, tastefully decorated room, with a view of a garden. The only drawback was that the hotel, which was for women only, ensured respectability with a strictly enforced curfew and a 'no visitors' rule. Kitty decided that she didn't plan to stay out late and wouldn't be having visitors, so the Longwood was preferable to paying a high price for a small, drab room in the Mayfair. She settled into her room, freshened her hair and make-up, changed into an attractive blue dress and headed off to the convention.

Outside the convention hall, she stood off to the side to watch unnoticed and get a feel for things. A parade of jovial, back-slapping men walked by and she wondered if she'd be the only woman there. After a few minutes she pushed through the heavy doors and almost gasped at the vastness of the room. Under enormously high ceilings, salesmen sat at tables on one side of the room eager to make deals to supply liquor, beer, glassware, chairs, tables, pianos, and anything else a saloon might need. Saloon owners were spread throughout the huge room. Some were bargaining with vendors, others were helping themselves to a buffet of ham sandwiches, corn on the cob and pickles, and others stood in small groups talking. Kitty looked around figuring out how to best fit in. She spotted two women across the room and thought meeting them would be a good start. She smiled and headed their way. The women, at least 30 years older and 40 pounds heavier than Kitty, glared with open hostility. Each set a plump hand on a man's arm and Kitty spotted their wedding rings. She immediately understood that the women were with their husbands and she was considered a threat. She sighed and shook her head.

"You are a pretty one." A male voice broke into her thoughts and Kitty turned towards it. A stocky man in his 40's smiled into her breasts.

She crossed her arms. "Mister, I'm here to find suppliers. Do you have any to recommend? If not we're done."

"That's not very friendly of you." He snickered, "I know women, and a woman like you is here for one thing. Where are you staying princess, and what's your room number?

She looked him in the eye. "I own a saloon, mister. It's a good one, but I'm here to make it better. If you want female companionship, I suggest you try the other two women who are here."

He looked across the room at the two large, scowling women who were clinging to men, and angrily stomped off.

"Nicely done." A tall, handsome grey-haired man walked towards Kitty. "You certainly put him in his place." He extended his hand. "Frank Hardy." She shook his hand with a smile, "Kitty Russell."

Frank looked around the room, "You know, the saloon business is tough for anyone. It must be really tough for a woman, especially a woman as young and beautiful as you. Are you the sole owner of your establishment?"

"As a matter of fact I am."

"Well, that is something to be admired and respected."

"Thank you Mr. Hardy."

"Still, it must be terribly hard for a woman. You know, an idea just came to me. Maybe, just maybe, I can be of some service to you. I'm quite good at handling things that ladies shouldn't have to worry about."

"And what would those things be, Mr. Hardy?" She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

"Please, call me Frank. Can I call you Kitty?"

"Miss Russell will do, now what things should ladies not have to worry about, Mr. Hardy"

"Oh finances, things like that. I could take all that off your hands. All you'd have to worry your pretty little head about is keeping customers satisfied."

Kitty met Hardy's eyes, "I find taking care of my finances, in my saloon, no trouble at all. Mr. Hardy you have a lot to learn if you think women can't manage money. Good day." She smiled coolly and walked away.

TBC