Chapter 17- Revelations
Kitty fitfully slept on the train, half conscious, wondering what she should say to her husband upon her return home. Seems like anything she could come up with sounded like it would start an argument.
Damn straight it will start a fight. It should. Matt has some explaining t' do about that little house and the accusations from Sadie. That said, I can't see Matt turning to a woman so young she could be his daughter. But she is pretty…and what man wouldn't be flattered? Matt is like the prize bull at the fair, too. How many saloon gals tried to bed him even after we were an established couple? Oh, if I could just get some sleep, maybe I could make some sense of it all.
Kitty decided to go to the dining car, hoping she could order a drink, even though it may have seemed improper. I'm sure a nice scotch could settle my nerves, she reasoned.
She sat at a table for two, hoping no one would bother her. Of course, a woman as lovely as Kitty had always seemed to draw attention. A tall, well dressed, middle-aged man approached her, asking, "Seems this is the place t' be on this train right now, Ma'am. Would you mind if I joined you? My treat," he offered, flashing her his best smile.
"Sure. Why not?" she shrugged, figuring she could probably procure a drink easier if she were accompanied by a male companion. And she had been correct. Within two minutes, both she and the stranger had been served snifters of brandy and some pretzels.
"Well, thanks, Mister…?" she lifted her glass.
"Benson. David Benson. And you're welcome, Miss…?" he smiled brightly.
"It's Missus," she corrected, "My name is Kitty Dillon."
"Cheers to you, Mrs. Dillon," the stranger lifted both his glass and his eyebrows.
"And cheers to you, too."
Kitty had forgotten how nice it could be to just make small talk with a stranger, like she'd done for so many years at the Long Branch. Before she'd realized it, one drink had become three and the redhead finally felt relaxed enough to rest.
She'd politely excused herself and made her way back to her seat where she'd comfortably sat to thumb through her incredibly long book.
A few hours later, the rested woman awoke to the loud announcement from the conductor, "Next stop-Kansas City, Kansas. Next stop-Kansas City!"
Kitty ran her hands over her hair, hoping she hadn't mussed it too much while she'd slept. She felt jittery, her mind racing with various thoughts. I wonder if Ezra has changed a great deal? I hope he'll recognize me. Why am I so nervous? I wonder why he never answered my letters. I hope Lydia has started to talk. How on Earth will I be able to speak to this woman?! I hope I don't make her situation worse.
She stood and reached for her two valises, waiting patiently in the aisle to exit the train. Just before she stepped onto the platform, Kitty set down her bags and straightened her royal blue, velvet traveling jacket. She folded her woolen black coat over her arm, clutched her luggage and exited the train car, prepared for anything.
Kitty stepped onto the platform, searching the crowd for her old friend. If truth be told, Ezra Roseveare was much more than an old friend to her. He'd helped to keep her and her unborn child alive while she had lived with Will Mannon, as well as having kept her spirits up. And when she'd begged him to help her escape from the madman's clutches, he'd arranged to marry her and move her to the Osage reservation, where both she and her child would've been safe.
"Kitty! Kitty! Over here!" he waved his arm in the air.
She spied his salt and pepper hair and his dark eyebrows bobbing above the crowd assembled on the platform. She kept track of him as he weaved his way through the travelers and reception committees until he ended up standing directly in front of her.
"Oh, Kitty! I'm so happy t' see you!" the handsome man with a tanned complexion rested his hands upon her shoulders, "I'm so grateful you came," he beamed, taking in her appearance.
"Ezra! I'm happy t' see you, too!" she leaned in to embrace the big man, giving him a little squeeze.
"Are these your only bags?" he asked, nodding toward the valises sitting on the platform on either side of the redhead.
"Yep. That's it," she shrugged, smiling brightly. My goodness, you are even more handsome than I remember.
Ezra grabbed her bags, one by the handle and the other tucked under the same arm. He wrapped his other arm around Kitty's waist, guiding her through the crowd.
"Is it always so congested here?" she asked, tilting her head to see his face.
"Kansas City is a big town, so yes. But a few trains were late, so it's a little more crowded than usual."
Once outside the train station, Ezra led Kitty to a large area where there were many horses and buggies.
"Mine is that one," he nodded toward a small black buggy with a black canvas cover tethered to an all-white quarter horse. After securing her bags to the back of the buggy, Ezra assisted Kitty into the conveyance.
"Ezra, what a beautiful horse!" she complimented.
"It was a gift from my mother when I left the reservation," he offered, skillfully guiding them away from the train station and onto the busy roads of the bustling city.
"I can't wait to catch up," Kitty grinned, placing her hand casually on her companion's arm, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
"Well, I can't either. But my life is really pretty dull. Please tell me about the children-Addie and Matthew, Junior. By my calculations, Addie is eleven and Matthew is nine. Am I correct?" Ezra smiled at her, his eyes sparkling.
"Yes, you are correct about those two," Kitty stifled a snicker and folded her hands in her lap.
"I don't understand," he shook his head.
"I don't only have two children, Ezra."
"Now I feel like a fool. I guess it was wrong for me to presume that because you'd had one of each, you'd be finished with child bearing."
"Brace yourself," Kitty pursed her lips, giving her friend a sideways glance through her ginger lashes, "I have three of each."
The dark-skinned man's chocolate eyes bulged as he stared at her, "Three," he gulped, "of each?"
Kitty could no longer restrain herself. She let out a loud, bawdy, belly laugh, before confirming, "Yes'sir. I most certainly do!"
"Well, I'll be," Ezra focused on the road ahead of him, "I bet you're the best mother in all of Kansas, Mrs. Dillon."
Kitty's mood quickly sobered. She bit the inside of her cheek before commenting, "Honestly, I've had a rough couple of months and I'm hoping to leave here more like my old self."
"A rough couple a months?" he studied her face as he parked his buggy in front of what appeared to be a fancy restaurant, "What happened, Kitty?"
She stared at the building, "Aren't we going straight to your office t' see Lydia?"
"Her husband comes every night for two hours or so. I like to give them privacy, even though Lydia just lays there. He feeds her as if she were a young child. I figured we could grab a nice meal while he's with her."
The still mourning mother was grateful that Ezra had requested a private booth, tucked away in a corner of the restaurant. Kitty hoped she wouldn't blubber as she shared her story about losing Angela.
Ezra patiently waited until they'd been served some wine before he readdressed the subject, "So, Kitty, ya gonna tell me why you've had a rough time?" he gently placed his hand upon hers on the table top.
"About eleven weeks ago, I had a stillborn child. A little girl I named Angela," she took a sip of her wine, "I'd made it oh, about twenty-two weeks into the pregnancy, and then I lost her," her sad blue eyes met his sympathetic brown ones.
"I can certainly see why you've had a rough couple of months. I'm so very sorry," he squeezed her hand.
"Matt thinks I should be over it by now, seeing how we have a houseful of healthy children," she bit her bottom lip, slowly rotating the base of her crystal wine glass, "but I just can't get past it. Most days I feel like my heart is going to break into a million pieces, but I put on a brave face. My family deserves that much. And I know deep in my heart that Matt is right."
"Stop right there," Ezra interjected, "The brain is a complicated organ. Everyone is different. Everyone copes differently, especially men and women. I assume you are the primary parent?" he pursed his lips.
"Well, yes. I'm their mother."
"And Matt is still the marshal?"
"No. He retired this past summer. He's a rancher now."
Ezra took a long sip of his wine, "And he is out of doors, working most of the day, I presume?"
"Of course," Kitty nodded, "Just what are you getting at, Doctor?" she arched her brows.
"Matt deals with his feelings outside the house. He has physical labor that helps to work out his frustrations and anger."
"Anger?" Kitty questioned.
"In my recent studies, I've learned a lot of grief is anger, Kitty. Take Lydia for example," he paused while the waiter served them their salads, "her husband is full of anger. Anger over what happened to her, but also because he is grieving who Lydia used to be. The Lydia she was going to be."
"I don't feel angry. Just sad," Kitty poked at her lettuce.
"Because you are around the children all day."
Kitty sat up straight, clarifying, "I love my children, Ezra. Don't suggest for one minute that I-"
He placed his hand gently on her forearm, "I know you do, Honey. What I'm trying t' say is, you are reminded every minute of the day that one of your children is missing."
"My God," Kitty whispered, her mouth agape, "You do understand. I couldn't put it into words…but that's it! That's why I go to her grave as much as I can. She should still be in me, Ezra," she clutched the napkin in her lap.
"And in time, you will not really learn to live with the loss, you will learn how to compartmentalize it. How to deal with it at appropriate times," he grinned as she began to eat her salad instead of shoving it around her plate. He exhaled, deciding to change the subject, "Please tell me about the other four children," he requested, digging into his salad.
"We have the two youngest that are girls-Scarlett who is two, nearly three, and Maggie, nine months," she noticed a slight wince on her friend's face, "Yes, Angela and Maggie would have only been eleven months apart."
Ezra smiled, "And the other two boys?"
"Well, Adam is six, he's named after Doc," she paused, a smirk on her face, "and we have a four-year-old named Ezra."
Kitty's dinner companion began to cough as he choked on his bite of lettuce. She chuckled, handing him his glass of water as she patted him on the back.
"Ya okay there?" she smiled as he gulped his water.
"You have a son named Ezra?" he asked, his eyes wide with awe.
Kitty straightened her traveling jacket, "Yes, we most certainly do. Each child has a name that means something to us, and he is named after two men who put their lives on hold for me. Two men who helped to save my life. Ezra Festus Dillon is a sweet, loyal child. He loves and protects his little sisters and he's brave, too," she glowed as she spoke about her youngest son.
"My goodness, Kitty. I don't know what t' say. I'm so honored," the tall, handsome man leaned over and softly placed a kiss upon her alabaster cheek.
XXXXXXXX
Kitty sat on the edge of a light blue wingback chair next to the bed where twenty-four-year-old Lydia Colburn sat propped up by two pillows. The sullen, ashen woman leaned against her wooden spindled headboard, staring at nothing in particular.
Ezra had merely ushered Kitty to the door, giving his friend the simple instructions to say whatever she wanted to the nearly catatonic woman.
"I see you had breakfast for supper," Kitty quietly commented, eyeing the tray that contained some left-over scrambled eggs, ham and a small bit of biscuit, "My children love it when we do that. It's not often, mind you, but they get such a kick out of it."
The woman with the chestnut-colored eyes and unkempt brown hair just stared at the foot of her bed, showing absolutely no reaction to the stranger's comments.
"My name is Kitty. Ezra asked me t' come visit with you. Seems we, uh," she clenched the arms of the chair as she bit her bottom lip, "have something in common."
The redhead must have said something provocative, since the silent woman turned her head toward Kitty.
"Ya see, I was taken from my home, too," Kitty pursed her lips, "Actually, I went on my own accord, t' protect my husband. Well, he wasn't my husband at the time, but he was the love of my life."
Lydia kept her face focused upon Kitty's as she slowly blinked.
"The man that I let take me away was named Will Mannon," she momentarily paused, noticing a small shiver come from the woman in the bed, "he raped me nearly every day for seven months." Kitty stood, walking over to the window. She stared down at the street below. It wasn't nearly as busy as Front Street in Dodge, but it had some bustle, considering it was a side street.
She crossed her arms in front of her chest, her breasts beginning to ache as she felt the great need to nurse her absentee baby. She sighed, "He humiliated me in ways I never thought possible…even when I was pregnant."
The redhead's last declaration definitely struck a chord with Ezra Roseveare's patient. The woman began to rock back and forth, clutching the quilt that covered her lap.
Kitty could see Lydia's reflection in the window. She decided to remain in place, staring out onto the lamp-lit street.
"Ezra helped keep me alive," Kitty whispered.
She'd gotten so lost in her own thoughts, she barely heard the woman declare in a quiet, raspy voice, "Kitty's a stupid name."
She talked! I need to keep her talking! Kitty slowly turned so as not to startle the woman. She kept her tone casual, "It's a nickname my mother gave me when I was a baby. My given name is Kathleen."
"Oh," Lydia sighed as she wrung her hands, not making eye contact with the beautiful stranger, "My name is Lydia," she whispered.
"Nice to know you, Lydia," Kitty softly spoke, choosing to stand behind the chair in which she'd been sitting. She had known from personal experience how frightening it could be when people stood too close to you after an assault.
"I need t' ask ya somethin'," Lydia continued to stare at her hands.
"Go ahead. Ask me anything."
"Did ya keep it?"
"Keep it?" Kitty tilted her head to the side; not quite sure what Lydia had meant.
"The baby. Ya said the man kept on, even after you were with child. Did ya keep it?"
"Yes, I did," Kitty nodded, slowly sitting in her chair.
"What was it? Boy? Girl?"
"I had a beautiful daughter. She's now eleven," Kitty grinned.
Lydia's tortured eyes studied Kitty's face. With her lips taut, she asked, "Do ya love her?"
"Very much so."
"How?! How can ya love her?" tears began to trickle down Lydia's cheeks.
"I was very fortunate to have a good doctor and friend in Ezra Roseveare," Kitty shared, leaning forward a slight bit, "When he informed me that I was with child, I thought I'd lose my mind. Then he told me how far along I was, which let me know that my child was my…" she struggled for a word to describe who Matt had been to her at the time, "my lover's. Not the man who'd been hurting me."
"Oh," was the final word Lydia spoke for the evening. She wriggled herself under her covers and closed her eyes, sighing deeply.
TBC