Chapter 5- What Will the Neighbors Think?

A/N: Wow! Most of yesterday was a nail-biter for any FF writers wishing to post. The site was completely down for several hours. Thanks so much, dear readers, for being so incredibly loyal and persistent.

"Ezra, Honey, I told you that you don't need to bring any toys with you. Bonnie has plenty t' share," Kitty explained to her four-and-a-half-year-old as he stood in the middle of the Dillon children's playroom, hurriedly gathering some of his favorite toys into a satchel.

"But, Mama," he implored, "she's got girl toys. I'se a boy," he batted his dark eyelashes, hoping to change his mother's mind with his inherited Dillon charm.

"'I'm a boy,' Son. Not, 'I'se a boy,'" the frustrated mother corrected. They were already running late due to Adam uncharacteristically protesting this visit.

"But I want t' take boy toys," Ezra whined, stomping his foot.

"Ya know what?" Kitty grabbed his wrist, "Just for whining, I'm going to put all the toys you have in this satchel in my wardrobe for a week."

The child's eyes grew to be the size of saucers, "Mama! NOOOO! I promise I'll be a good boy," he implored, attempting to escape his mother's grip.

"Too late. Let this be a lesson to ya that you just need t' listen when I tell you to do something," she picked up the satchel with her free hand and pulled Ezra down the hall. She peeked into the boys' room, "Adam, where are you? We have GOT to leave."

"He's down here, Kitty!" Doc called from the bottom of the stairs.

"Adam Russell Dillon!" she exclaimed as she huffed down the stairs, pulling Ezra as she threw the satchel over her shoulder, "You're gonna be the death a me today. Put on your coat. Now." The upset mother left no room for interpretation in her demand. "Curly, would you please see that this gets put in my wardrobe. I'm holding it as a punishment," Kitty handed him the over-stuffed leather bag.

"Yes, Warden," Doc commented, winking to lighten the mood.

"Oh, Father," Kitty smirked, "you tickle me so," her expression sobered, "Matt had better have the buggy ready. I can't have one more delay."

XXXXXXXX

Most of the ride to the Triple D was in silence, but for the clip clop of Gladiola's hooves. Kitty decided it was time to get to the bottom of Adam's reluctance to visit little Bonnie Ritter.

She glanced at her middle son as he sat as far away as possible from her and his brother on the buggy seat. His face appeared as if he'd just been sucking a lemon, while his arms were locked in defiance across his chest, secured under his armpits.

"Okay, Adam, what gives?" Kitty asked, her voice deep with concern.

"Nothin'," he responded, continuing to look off to the side.

"Son, you are my middle prince. I know you better than you know yourself. Please talk to me," her tone softened.

Deep down, it worried Kitty that her sweet boy would learn to bottle things up as he aged. He wore his heart on his sleeve, and she knew that was tough for a male.

Adam chewed his bottom lip while he slowly pumped his legs forward and backward on the buggy seat.

"Well," he began, "a couple a weeks ago, Mrs. Ritter and Bonnie was in town during lunch recess. Bonnie spotted me and-" the boy abruptly stopped talking, glancing into the countryside again.

"And?"

"And she ran over and hugged me, like she does," Adam finally met his mother's gaze.

"And if I know my sweet boy, you hugged her back," Kitty grinned with pride.

"Yes'm. But when Mrs. Ritter caught up and took her away, some a the boys laughed at me," he wiped away a tear.

"Laughed at you?! What on Earth for?"

"They asked if I was gonna marry the dummy someday and have dummy kids," he whispered, "I tol' 'em we're just friends."

A lump formed in Kitty's throat. Damn brats, she thought.

"You said the perfect thing, Baby. Just perfect. Don't ever let mean people keep you from doing what's right," Kitty soothed, reaching over Ezra's slumped, sleeping body to place her hand upon Adam's.

"Every now 'n again they say somethin'. Matthew told 'em to stop, and they did."

"You've got a good big brother," Kitty continued to grin with pride, winking at her sensitive boy.

"But Mama, what will people think if they find out Bonnie and me play t'gether?" he squeezed his mama's hand, studying her face.

"Oh, my sweet boy," she sighed, "I learned a very long time ago not to worry about what other people think. Does it hurt your feelings? Of course, it does. We all have feelings. Which means-"

Adam interrupted his precious mama, "Which means Bonnie has feelings, too."

Kitty briefly closed her eyes and chewed on her bottom lip, "Which means Bonnie has feelings," she confirmed, squeezing Adam's hand within hers.

XXXXXXXX

It didn't take Kitty very long to realize that something was amiss in the Ritter household. Normally, the women would greet each other with an embrace, but today the redhead had been met with a weak smile and a nod of Elsa Ritter's head. A barely audible, curt "hello" had accompanied the impersonal body language.

The women had been able to settle the children relatively quickly when Kitty pulled a small, brown paper wrapped package out from a basket she'd brought. As a surprise, she had ordered some wax-colored crayons from the Franklin Manufacturing Company in Rochester, New York. All three children danced in delight when she'd presented the crayons, along with a small, left-over roll of paper she'd purchased from the Dodge City Bulletin.

"Elsa," Kitty addressed as she slowly twirled her tea cup in a circle, "Is everything alright? You seem a little-"

"A little what, Kitty?" Elsa bit out, almost saying Kitty's name as if it were a curse word.

The redhead decided to be direct. She straightened her spine and arched her ginger brows, "A little angry with me."

Elsa studied her hands atop the kitchen table for a moment. She took a deep breath as she glanced at the children happily drawing in the adjoining sitting room.

"Is it true that you own a saloon?" the plain woman with salt and pepper hair examined the beautiful redhead's paint-free, freckled face.

"I did, once upon a time," Kitty nodded her head, "the Long Branch. It was and continues to be the best saloon in Dodge City," she proudly stated.

With pursed lips and furrowed brows, Elsa questioned, "So it's safe to assume you worked there?"

"Of course, I did. I needed to run it," Kitty now realized what had been bothering her newest friend.

"And your husband was okay with that?" her tone somewhat softened.

"Well, I was single when I bought half interest, and-"

Elsa interrupted, holding up her hand, "I thought you said you and Matt have been together for twenty-five years. Did you buy in as a teenager?!" she practically hissed.

"No," Kitty shook her head, trying to keep her voice down and her growing anger in check, "I became half owner at twenty-two. Full owner a few years later. And Matt and I have been together for twenty-five years. Just eleven of them as legal husband and wife. Elsa, what does this have to do with you being angry with me?" she raised her brows, tilting her head in bewilderment.

"I feel a little deceived is all," Elsa sat up straighter, piously sucking in her cheeks.

"Deceived? In what way?" Kitty's voice became deeper, angrier.

"You presented yourself as a rancher's wife. A mother to a large family."

The redhead could barely control herself. Leaning over the table, her eyes full of both fury and pain, she quietly retorted, "I am a rancher's wife and a mother to a large family. Frankly, I don't know what the hell you're talkin' about," .

"You watch your language in my home," Elsa whispered, running her hands over her severely pulled back hair.

"Need I remind you, Mrs. Ritter, this is technically my house."

"For which we pay rent," Elsa spat.

"Touché," Kitty leaned back in her chair. She took a deep breath, adding, "I suppose you've been talking with some of Dodge's upstanding citizens," she glanced over her hostess' shoulder, noting that the three children were now happily playing a game of jackstraws. She was grateful they seemed oblivious to the nearby war of words.

Elsa Ritter bit her bottom lip. She sighed, "Actually, Josiah told me you own a saloon. I guess he figured it made it okay that he accompanies your husband on his frequent outings. The ladies from the quilting circle told me about your…former profession."

"I just bet they did," Kitty scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"They also said your oldest girl is the reason you and the marshal finally married," the slightly older woman's voice became softer, kinder.

Kitty folded her hands atop the clean, white tablecloth. She quietly spoke, "She wasn't the first love child in the world, and she certainly won't be the last. Just ask Harriet Tucker from your quilting circle. As I recall, she married and delivered an eight pounder just five months later."

Elsa took a few moments, pouring more tea into Kitty's cup before taking some cookies and milk into the sitting room for the little ones.

Once she'd returned, she plopped herself onto her wooden chair, sighing, "Kitty, I'm sorry. I'm angry at Josiah and I'm afraid I took it out on you. I confess I was taken aback when the ladies told me about how you used to earn your living. I felt foolish not knowing."

"So now we can't be friends? Because I wasn't a chaste bride? I got news for ya, Elsa. Most women aren't," Kitty choked back a tear trickling down her throat.

Elsa wrung her hands, nervously answering, "What will people think if our families are close? Might they think I was okay with you having been a…a…you know?"

"Oh, I get it now. Guilt by association. You don't have to be okay with anything about me, Elsa Ritter. Not one thing. I hope you enjoy your friendships with the ladies from the quilting circle. I bet they will all be so happy to invite you and yours into their homes."

"Kitty, wait," the embarrassed woman grabbed the redhead's sleeve as she stood to collect her sons, "I didn't mean to sound so…so…"

"Judgemental. I believe that's the word you're looking for," Kitty offered with a forlorn expression. "Boys," she called her sons, "we need to get going. Maggie's gonna be missin' me. Please clean up and say your proper goodbyes to Bonnie."

Adam carried their dirty glasses into the kitchen, thanking his friend's mother, "Mrs. Ritter, those cookies were really good. And thank you for letting us play with Bonnie."

Elsa studied the small boy's sincere expression. She warmly embraced him, "You're welcome, Adam. Bonnie so looks forward to seeing you boys."

"Bye, Bonnie," Adam hugged the little girl.

Bonnie replied with a monotoned, heavy tongue, "Bye, Adam. Bye, Ezra. Member…tell Santa Claus what I want."

"Okay," Ezra hugged her, too.

Kitty finished helping Ezra button his coat in silence. As she readied to walk out the door, she held out her hand to her hostess.

"No need t' see us out. It's cold today. My boys and I sincerely thank you for your hospitality this afternoon, Mrs. Ritter. My family would like to formally wish you a very merry Christmas and a healthy, prosperous new year. You have my solemn word that you won't have t' worry what the ladies from the quilting circle will think of us socializing in the future."

Elsa's mouth hung open as she tentatively shook Kitty's hand.

"You're welcome…but, wait…" Bonnie's mama realized she'd made a grave error in confronting and judging Kitty Dillon when she'd really been angry with her own husband for his frequent evening outings.

But Kitty didn't wait. She exited her former home and quickly hoisted her sons into the buggy. Kitty Russell Dillon never looked back at the sorrowful woman on the porch.

XXXXXXXX

"So ya understand what yer s'possed t' do? Right, Sadie?" Ransom Danko asked his eldest step-daughter, his breath thick with cheap rye.

"Yes, Pa, I understand. I'm not a idiot," the beautiful blonde haired, green eyed, nearly eighteen-year-old answered.

"Repeat it back t' me," the filthy man demanded, leaning his whiskered face toward the young lady dressed in a long-sleeved, somewhat low cut, calico dress. It was tight in the bust, to accentuate her attributes.

"Alright, alright," Sadie sighed, rolling her clear green eyes.

"Don't sass me, Girl. I'll smack that look right offa yer face," Ransom shook his finger at her.

"You wouldn't want t' mark up the merchandise, would ya?" Sadie spat, defiantly placing her hands on her hips.

"Tell me where yer s'possed t' go," the man demanded.

"I'm goin' t' the back door of the Poppy Hotel on River Street. I knock twice. Someone will let me in, then I go t' room twelve."

"That a girl," he patted her backside, "And remember, he don't want ya ta look like a whore. Clean face and that simple dress'll do. He likes 'em young and fresh. He done already paid me. Show 'im a good time and hopefully he'll tip ya."

"Sure, Pa. What every girl wants t' hear from her father," Sadie whispered as she searched for her cape. She was glad she'd bought it for two reasons. It not only kept her warm, but it was somewhat a disguise, with its large hood.

"I'm goin' t' throw some dice at th' Belzer place," quick as a rabbit, Ransom scurried out the thin, wooden door.

"Wendy Jo," Sadie called to her little sister who'd been reading on her bed, "wanna walk with me toward town?"

"Sure!" Wendy Jo sprang off the bed, opening her wooden chest to retrieve her gifted, green coat.

"Where'd ya git that?" Sadie asked, her voice laced with envy.

"A friend lent it t' me," Wendy Jo replied as they walked out of the shanty. She'd decided to keep her friendship with Addie Dillon a secret from her sister as well. Sadie also had a penchant for using people.

"Guess what?" Sadie asked, a sly grin growing upon her young face.

"What?" the younger sister practically skipped along the road, happy to be away from Rat Hole Alley.

"I've been seein' a rich man. He comes t' me every now and again at the Bull's Head. But lately we been meetin' at an old huntin' shack near the east side a town. He pays me d'rectly. I sure as hell don't tell Ransom, though."

"Is he nice to ya, Sadie?" the young girl tried to see her sister's face, somewhat hidden by the hood of the cape.

"Very," the blonde purred, licking her bottom lip.

"Think he'll marry ya?"

"Well, he's already married. Got a wife and some kids, too," Sadie stated as if she was reporting on the weather, "But maybe if I keep makin' 'im happy- if ya know what I mean- he'll leave 'em fer me. Then we don't gotta live with Ransom no more."

"Sadie! Why is he messin' with ya if he's married?!" Wendy Jo grabbed her sister's arm.

"You're such a baby!" she teased, "He likes what I do fer 'im. He says his wife don't want no more babies, so he's gotta go out fer his needs."

"Oh," the younger blonde sighed, staring at the road ahead of her. She didn't know what else to say. She sure as hell didn't want her life to be like her sister's, of that the girl was certain.

"It's kinda romantic. I don't even know his name. Then last night he was a little tipsy and said that he used t' be the marshal in town. But I gotta keep that a secret. You hear me, Wendy Jo? That's a secret."

"Who would I tell?!" Not like I'd want to tell anyone my sister's a whore sleepin' with the ex-marshal. Sheesh.

TBC