The Winds of Change
By
AZgirl66
Chapter 9- The Aftermath (2)
Kitty rested on the blue velvet chaise that she'd had Festus move in front of one of the windows in her bedroom. She gazed out the window, her eyes focused on the distant hill where they'd buried Angela Faith Dillon just a couple of hours prior.
Kitty couldn't stop replaying the scene in her head. She was afraid that if she stopped reflecting on her daughter's burial, she would forget everything about the little girl. The ceremony had been simple. Doc had solemnly read Psalm 23 out of his well-worn Bible, and five of the six Dillon children had each thrown a handful of dirt atop the unimaginably tiny casket, bidding the sister they'd never met a sad farewell.
The grief-stricken mother hadn't shed a tear until she'd asked to have a private moment at her child's graveside. She'd patiently waited until Festus and the children were out of earshot, with only Doc waiting for her several yards away. Kitty had fallen to her knees and let out what could've only been described as a primal scream. It had been deep and guttural, so much so that even her bones had begun to ache. When she'd cried until she couldn't have cried anymore, the heartbroken mother had risen, shaken the dirt from her black skirt, and collected herself. She'd firmly stated, "I love you, Angela Faith. I promise Mama will never forget you," and she'd walked away, wiping the tears from her fevered cheeks.
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Festus was the first to spot Matt Dillon as he trotted Major up the drive. He waited for the former marshal inside the family horse barn, grateful that Moose had ridden into town to get the children's schoolwork for the rest of the week, and that Buck Lacey was off repairing some fencing. The former deputy didn't want an audience for what he had to say to his friend.
Matt led his large, buckskin gelding into the barn, thinking it odd that everything was so quiet around the ranch, especially for a regular workday.
"Matthew," Festus flatly greeted, "I need t' talk t' ya before ya go inta the house." It wasn't lost on Matt that Festus neither shook his hand nor smiled.
"Sure, Festus. Ya don't mind if I take care of Major while you talk, do ya?" he remarked, somewhat sarcastically.
"No'sir, I shore don't. I kin even help ya if ya like," Festus offered, his voice still cool.
"Sure. Grab the brush for me, would ya? He's gonna need a good rub down," Matt unbuckled the latigo.
As he was walking around the horse to tie up the cinch, Festus cleared his throat, "Matthew, th' last couple a days 'round here have been purty," he paused, not knowing what word to use in order to describe his precious Miss Kitty's personal hell, "…terrible. I love ya like a brother, but I need t' say somethin'," the sensitive hillman looked his friend straight in the eyes.
"Well, go ahead, Festus. What's on your mind?" Matt hung his thumbs over his belt, his mouth a straight line.
Festus straightened his spine, confidently speaking directly from his heart, "I'm gonna ask ya a favor. Iffin' ya don't plan on stayin', don'tcha even go inta the house. Jus' go wherever it is yer goin', an' I'll bring ya whatever ya want from here."
Matt studied his loyal friend's face. He knew deep down Festus was protecting Kitty, and for that he was grateful.
"That's between me and Kitty. But I appreciate you looking out for her," Matt slapped Festus on the back as departed the barn.
The house was unusually quiet when Matt entered, the only sound being the crackle and pop of the wood from the fireplace. The cloudy day made the rooms seem dark and gloomy since only a couple of lamps had been lit. Doc sat in front of the large sitting room fireplace, nursing a whiskey while he stared into the dancing flames.
"Doc," Matt stood next to his chair, staring at the same flames.
"Matt," Doc nodded, soberly staring up at him.
"What the hell's goin' on here?" Matt asked, his hands resting firmly on his hips.
"Kitty's upstairs in her room. I suggest you go straight there," Doc swirled the amber liquid before tossing it back.
Matt could feel in his soul something was terribly wrong. He turned on his heel and took the stairs two at a time, just like in the old days at the Long Branch. He quietly knocked on the bedroom door just in case his wife was napping.
"Come in, Matt," Kitty said, having seen her husband ride up the drive. She remained lounging on the chaise, her focus still absentmindedly on the distant hill.
Matt entered the room and closed the door behind him. He noticed Kitty hadn't turned to greet him. She seemed preoccupied with something outside.
"Kitty," his baritone didn't waver, "I'm home," he twirled his hat in his hands as he stood in the middle of the room, waiting for his wife to beckon him closer. She did not.
"Did ya do what you needed t' do?" she weakly asked, her eyes closed.
Matt took a few steps toward the chaise, but he remained standing a few feet behind her, tossing his hat onto the bed, "I did," he replied.
Kitty scoffed, quietly stating, "Great," she paused for a moment, "If you climbed into Susan Bart's bed to get even with me, you can collect your things and be on your way. If you went t' get even at a saloon, have Doc check ya out. One can never be too careful."
"What the hell are you talking about?!" he frustratingly shook his head, "I meant I got my head straight. I rode around, camped, and thought hard. About us, our children, what we're buildin' here, the new baby."
Kitty sensed Matt's approach, so she held up her hand, stopping him in his tracks.
"Please, Matt, just stay back for a bit. I've got t' say somethin' very difficult, and I can't bear t' look at you when I say it," Kitty begged, her voice cracking a bit.
The big man sat on the edge of the bed and braced himself. For what, he wasn't sure. Suddenly he felt like a child, waiting to be told his punishment for being a bad boy. Does she want me to leave permanently?
"It's been a tough couple of days here, Cowboy," she whispered.
"I'm sorry about that, Kitty. But you neglected t' tell me about somethin' pretty serious, so I just needed some quiet t' think-"
"I need t' finish before I fall apart," she quietly interrupted, "I…I'm…sorry," were the only words Kitty could utter before she began to softly cry.
Matt sprang from the bed and kneeled next to the chaise, where Kitty sat propped up, the lower half of her body covered by a quilt. He noticed that her eyes were bloodshot and swollen, her face flushed and puffy.
"Oh, Kitty, I know you're sorry. Please, Honey, you're gonna make yourself sick," Matt embraced her, cradling the back of her head with his gentle hand.
"I lost her," Kitty whispered into his ear.
"Lost who?" he held her face between his two palms, studying her tear-stained face, "Who's lost, Kitty? You're scaring me…"
She blinked slowly, focusing on her husband's chest. She swallowed hard and sniffled, "The baby. She's gone."
It took a moment for the words to sink in. Matt cocked his head and stared at Kitty's stomach. He slowly pulled away the quilt that covered her, his eyes becoming wide at the sight of her smaller midsection.
He tenderly placed his hand upon her empty belly, asking, "Her?" he looked up, his eyes full of sorrow.
Kitty nodded, cupping his cheek, "Yes, her. She came yesterday."
"And I wasn't here," Matt whispered, slumping onto the chaise, trying to keep his balance.
"She was so tiny. She fit in my hands," Kitty cupped her hands together, lost in wonder, not specifically speaking to Matt.
He abruptly stood, startling his wife. He paced around the room, Kitty following his every movement but not commenting. She slowly readjusted her legs over the side of her seat, her expression solemn.
"What happened? Where is she now?" he braced himself against the bed's brass footboard, staring at his wife.
Kitty sighed, "I'd been having some back pain for a few days, and then I had that one day when all I did was throw up," she briefly glanced at her husband, then concentrated on her folded hands, "Then yesterday, I started to cramp and I just went into labor. Angela was born in there," she nodded toward the water closet.
Matt gazed at Kitty, "Angela?" his brows rising to meet his hairline.
"Uh-huh," she looked directly into his face, "I had a dream yesterday that she was born right on schedule. You liked the name 'Angela'," Kitty grinned at the memory, "and in my dream, Doc gave her the middle name 'Faith'. I thought it was beautiful, so that's what I named our sweet angel- Angela Faith."
Matt kneeled before her, his eyes misty blue, "Aw, Kitty, I…I'm at a loss here. I want t' say 'I'm sorry for not being here', but that certainly doesn't say enough," he tightly clasped her hands, "Can ya feel how sorry I am, Honey? All I thought about as I rode around was how I can't live without you and the children we've made."
"Then what took you so long t' come back?" she sternly asked, her brows furrowed.
"I was stubborn. I knew that I could never be with another woman, especially as revenge," he paused, "but a selfish part of me wanted you to think maybe I could."
"Oh, Matt," she whispered, cupping his whiskery cheek.
"Where is Angela now, Kitty? I'd like t' see her."
Kitty turned her head toward the window. She softly answered, "We buried her this morning on your hill. The hill you told me you want t' be buried on," she returned her attention to her husband, "I figured someday we'll lie next to her. And for now, she can keep watch over us. I can look up at her resting place right from this window, too," a lone, salty pearl slid down her cheek.
"I'll be back soon, Honey," Matt rose to his feet and secured his hat upon his head.
"Where are you going?" Kitty asked, almost in a panic.
"I gotta go t' her."
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Matt Dillon walked with a purpose up the hill to his daughter's final resting place, but once he reached the spot where the small patch of freshly disturbed dirt was, he became weak in the knees. He removed his hat and held it over his heart as he stared at the tragically small grave.
"Hello, Angela Faith," Matt whispered, "I'm yer daddy," he kneeled next to the grave, "I'm so sorry I wasn't here t' help you and yer mama. She's a strong lady, but it was wrong of me t' not be here. She's had t' do so much on her own over the years."
Matt sat against the large oak tree that stood tall and proud over the hill. He picked up a stick and started to draw lines in the dirt.
"I'm so sorry that I didn't get t' see your pretty face, Sweetheart. I bet you look just like your sisters and Mama," he bit the inside of his cheek, "You have the best mother in the whole world, Angela Faith. I wish," he choked on his fresh tears, "I wish you could've been raised by her."
Matt silently cried, looking up through the tree's branches toward the cloudy sky, "Why did this happen?!" he loudly asked the universe, suddenly standing and shaking his fists, "Please! I'll do anything! Please! Take yesterday back! I'll do anything you want! Just take yesterday back!" Matt's shouts echoed over the ranch, "It's all my fault," he softly cried as he exhaustedly fell to his knees.
TBC