Tongues were wagging after the dramatic scene on Front Street, even though no one had heard the words exchanged by the marshal and the gunmen. Some people had watched from windows, others hadn't seen a thing, but everyone had an opinion. Of course Mrs. Carter's pitchfork charge and Matt's speed with his gun, were greatly commented upon as were the possible motives of the gunmen. Speculation was rampant.
Kitty and Missy had watched things unfold from inside Delmonico's but decided that until they got the facts from Matt, it was senseless to try and put the puzzle pieces together. Besides they had other things to discuss.
Missy set a chair next to the desk in Kitty's office and looked around as she sat down. The room was small, but the 2 vivid landscapes on the wall, the elegant brass lamp on the desk and the leather bound ledgers neatly lined up on the shelf, gave the room a distinctive style. A style that matched the strong, competent and beautiful woman who occupied the office.
Kitty got a bottle of brandy from the bottom draw of her desk and filled two glasses. "Is there a reason you wanted to talk here, Missy? I don't mind, but my office is nothing special."
"I believe it is special. How many women can say she has an office of her own? And I really admire the way you've made it truly yours."
"Thank you, I appreciate that." She handed Missy a glass of brandy. "Will you have an office in Chicago at the Tribune?"
"Yes, a small one. I'll be writing articles but will also be the assistant editor. That means in some areas, I'll be giving assignments to writers and editing their work." Missy sighed, "I admit I'm nervous about that. Those writers will no doubt be men and I'm not sure they'll take kindly to a female boss. Kitty, you have men working for you, how has that been?"
Kitty took a sip of brandy and gave the question some thought. "I've had to prove myself more than once. Frankly, not only to men but to women too. A man named Bill Pence owned this place when I wandered in looking for work as a saloon girl. Once I had a job, I went out of my way to show him that I was good with numbers and at keeping track of inventory. Little by little he started having me fill out order forms and do the bookkeeping. When I had enough money to buy a partnership, he was ready to ease out of those areas entirely. Then, the first problems I had were with the other girls. Some thought I was getting uppity and didn't want to take orders from me. Others thought they could get away with anything because we were friends. I soon found out that mixing friendship with being a boss can be tricky. I ended up having to fire one girl, and that was hard. As for the men, well some of the bartenders didn't like being told what to do by a woman, and one of them quit." Kitty saw the serious look Missy's face and offered an encouraging smile. "But, as time went on I did a lot of the hiring, so by the time I bought Pence out, everyone here was used to having me as a boss."
Missy nodded. "I'll behave professionally, work hard and do my job well. If I lose a writer because I'm a woman, so be it. Maybe I can even encourage some female writers. Kirk has a lot of confidence in me. That helps enormously."
Kitty refilled their glasses. "Matt has always had a lot of confidence in me. He believed in me before I did."
The women sipped their drinks in silence. They thought about their lives and what they'd learned about each other. Kitty set her glass down. "Missy, I'm jealous of you, but I have no reason to tear your hair out so it's not very satisfying!"
Missy laughed. "Jealous of me – why? I knew Matt when I was a child, and I have a husband who I'm in love with. Matt is deeply in love with you. You must know that."
"I do know that." Kitty gathered her thoughts. "It's – it's just that you were there for Matt at a terrible time in his life. You gave him comfort and joy. I wish I…." Kitty's voice petered out. She felt she was making no sense.
"Oh Kitty, I know what you're saying. Nothing is more special than being there for the one who is in your heart. At a tender young age, Matt was in my heart in a way I will treasure forever. I hope and believe that what we gave each other helped us to become the people we are. We shared one kind of love, but the love that you have when you're young opens your heart to be able to love in other ways. I know from what Matt's said, and even not said, that his love for you is boundless. And now you are the one who is there for Matt, and he is there for you. Just like Kirk and I are there for each other.
Kitty smiled, "I hope Kirk knows he's a lucky man, because you are a special woman. I'm sure you are a special writer too, because lady you know how to put thoughts into words."
Missy smiled, "You're pretty special yourself and now that I know you I don't want to lose you. We have to write to each other, and you and Matt have to visit us in Chicago. Kirk and I will visit you here.
"Yes." Kitty lifted her glass, "To friends."
They clinked glasses and downed the last bit of brandy. Missy stood, "I'd better go. I have to pack and get a telegram off to Kirk. I'm leaving on the 8:00AM stage. In the meantime, I believe you'll be spending time with the great and glorious Marshal Matt Dillon." Missy giggled, "He hates when I say that, but it's fun to tease him."
Matt
Matt paced back and forth in the telegraph office waiting for a response to a wire he'd sent to Wells Fargo about Max Wilson, the man Edith Carter ran at with a pitchfork. The reward for Wilson was $800. Matt squeezed his throbbing left shoulder. He'd hastily tied a bandana around it to stop the bleeding and was annoyed that a bullet graze was bothering him so much.
"Marshal Dillon, here it is." The clerk happily waved a piece of paper.
Matt grabbed it: Telegram received from US Marshal acceptable evidence of Max Wilson's death. Dodge City Bank will be wired reward within 24 hours. Bank will release $800 to Marshall Matt Dillon to disburse.
Matt tucked the good news in his pocket and hurried off to Doc's, hoping the blond man was still alive and would name the lawyer, Richard Reyburn as his boss.
Doc heard Matt's footsteps and opened the door before he knocked, "It's about time you got up here. That shoulder's probably infected."
"Never mind that Doc. How's the patient?"
Doc led Matt to the examination table, "Sit and I'll tell you while I clean that wound." Doc untied the bandana that Matt had wrapped around his arm. "It looks like he's going to make it. I'll let you see him after I finish with you."
"My arm's just grazed, Doc."
"A graze can get infected." Doc worked quickly but carefully. Finally he tied off the clean bandage. All right. Go on in."
Matt walked into the back room with Doc close behind. The man was flat on his back, deadly pale but awake and alert.
"What's your name?"
"Clay"
"Clay what?"
"Just Clay."
"All right Clay, who are you working for?
"Seems you think you know."
"I think I do, but I want you to say his name, then I'll want you to sign a statement. Co-operation is your best option, it might cut down your jail time."
"Maybe it's my best option, maybe not. You see, I've always had good luck – unbelievable luck. That's why my partner ended up on a wanted poster and I didn't. You never know what can happen with a man who's as lucky as me." Clay closed his eyes and pretended to sleep.
Matt shook his head and left. Doc followed.
"Doc, can he get out of bed?"
"Are you kidding, he can't even sit up."
"All right. I'll be back tomorrow to talk to him again.
"Fine, but Matt, you get some rest you've lost some blood.
"Thanks Doc, I will."
TBC