I'm beginning a full-length story about my current favorite television show: Gunsmoke.

In this story, Kitty Russell takes in an Indian (Comanche) baby after the child's mother gave her baby to Matt; the woman knew she was going to die for undisclosed reasons, and she wanted her only child to be raised in Dodge, where she hoped he'd be safe.

I won't spoil anything else for you, except for the fact that this will be in Matt's POV; if you're interested in reading, you'll have to find out that way!

I'm not sure how often this will be updated, because I'm still in school, of course, but I'm not going to be updating on a rigid schedule or anything like that. I'll update when I want to.

This story will contain triggering topics, but I will put a warning at the start of each chapter for said warnings. Still, please read with caution.

And, with that, my intro is over. Enjoy!


THUMP-THUMP-THUMP.

Matt grumbled something incoherent, pulling his blanket over his shoulder as he lay on his side, warm in his bed.

THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP.

Then, slowly waking from his comfortable sleep, he realized someone was knocking on the office door.

Rather urgently.

Matt stood up and dressed. The door was knocked on again.

"I'm coming," he called, voice slightly heavy with weariness.

He stood to his full height of 6'7 and stretched his arms. He proceeded to walk up to the door and opened it.

Who could want to talk at this hour-?

Matt was stunned by what he saw.

A thin, petite, big-eyed woman was standing there. She had dark skin, braided black hair, and gleaming brown eyes, even in the darkness. She stared up at him with fear evident in her expression. She couldn't have been more than 5'4.

In addition, she held a bundle of something in her arms.

Matt steadily met her nervous gaze, sensing that something was wrong immediately.

"Can I help you, ma'am?" he asked, his voice low on purpose.

"You are the marshal?" the woman inquired; her head bobbed towards him ever so slightly as she asked the question.

"Yes, that's me." Matt covered his mouth with his hand as he involuntarily yawned. "...what can I do for you?"

She got right to the point.

"I need marshal to... to take my son."

The small woman partially uncovered the infant, moving the deer-pelt blanket out of the way of his face.

Matt was beyond stunned now.

The baby was asleep, but appeared to be stirring, as he made a tiny noise of protest and scrunched up his nose.

"Ma'am, I... I can't care for a baby," Matt said, having a hard time understanding the situation. "What's the trouble? Why are you trying to give him up?"

The woman shook her head. "My people... in danger... Comanche people in danger."

Matt ran a hand through his hair, looking at the infant. He blew out through his lips gently, then pressed his mouth into a thin line. "I, uh... you're sure you can't tell me what the problem is? Maybe I can help ya."

She shook her head again. Her eyes grew tearful. "Please, Marshal... take my son. Keep him safe."

Matt's blue eyes softened, and he sighed, lowering his head. "Ma'am, I..."

The young woman moved forward a little, as if she were going to hand the baby to him.

"Please..."

Matt paused, his eyes closed and head bowed. Then he inhaled and looked up at her. "Alright. I'll take him."

The woman's dark eyes seemed to light up despite her sadness. The littlest of smiles appeared on her face.

She handed the baby over to Matt, who, while nervous, didn't refuse to hold him.

The woman stepped back after wrapping the blanket a little tighter around her child. Tears streamed down her cheeks, but she stared up at Matt with such emotion that he couldn't help but look away.

"...thank you, marshal..."

She leaned forward and kissed the baby's forehead. Then she turned around and mounted her horse; she stole one last look at Matt and the baby.

"Marshal... give my son a name, please… and... ensure he is treated fairly."

Matt met her eyes and nodded his head just once.

"I will."

The woman gave him a genuine, endlessly thankful smile, and rode quietly out of Dodge.

Matt looked down at the awakening baby in his arms.

What have I gotten myself into?


The next morning, after staying awake most of the night with the baby, unable to sleep for several reasons- namely the stress of the situation- Matt stepped halfway out of his office and looked around.

Then Chester Goode, his assistant and friend, started up to him with that characteristic limp of his. "Mornin', Mr. Dillon!" he greeted, making his way up the front steps and outside the door.

Matt fully opened it and nodded to him. "Morning, Chester."

Chester's expression turned from pleased to slightly concerned. "Mr. Dillon, you look like ya didn't get a wink a' sleep!"

Matt rubbed his eyes. "Yeah, you're right, Chester, I really didn't. And you're about to find out why."

"Huh...?"

Matt beckoned Chester inside and led him to his bed. There lay the baby, who had just woken up and was gently cooing.

Chester was speechless. "...M-Mr. Dillon, I... I-I dunno what 'ta say!" He stared at the marshal in shock. "Where'd it come from?"

"A Comanche woman came to me in the middle of the night and asked me to take care of him." Matt looked down at the infant, sighing as he placed his hands on his hips. "Well, I... just don't know what to do with him."

Chester looked down, too. "Mr. Dillon, I-I don't... do ya think we better ask Miss Kitty what 'ta do?"

Matt nodded. "Yeah... go get 'er for me, will ya?"

"Yessir."

Chester rushed out to retrieve Kitty, but he almost ran into Doc, who was just entering. "Oh! Sorry, there, Doc..."

The gray-haired man scowled. "What in the world are you hurryin' out for?"

Then the baby began to cry. Chester fled.

Doc looked at Matt. He had a very puzzled look on his face. "...uh, Matt...?"

Matt stepped aside as Doc came over, and the older man did a double-take. "Wh-... that... that's a baby! Why is there a baby in here?"

As the infant began to wail, the marshal exhaled through his nose, somewhat frustrated. "Well, Doc, a Comanche woman knocked on my door last night, asking me to take care of her son."

Doc carefully picked the child up. "Well, by golly, Matt, you can't just let him cry like this!"

"Well, what'm I supposed to do?"

Doc looked down at the crying baby and then back up at Matt. "He's prob'ly hungry!"

Matt paused. "And how do you suppose I should feed him?"

Doc studied the child, bouncing him a little. "Hmm... well, he looks to be only... maybe a few weeks old... he's gonna need special formula."

"Well, what kind?"

"Oh, I don't know, um..."

That was when Kitty and Chester arrived.

"What's going on, Matt?" Kitty demanded. "Chester told me-"

When Doc turned and Kitty saw the baby, her eyes instantly widened, and she stared hard at Matt. "So it's true. Whose baby is that?"

Matt sighed heavily. "A Comanche woman. She asked me to take care of him."

Kitty took the crying baby from Doc. "Well, what's his name?"

Matt hesitated. "I... guess he doesn't have one. The woman told me to give him a name, but..." He shook his head. "We have to notify an adoption agency."

"Oh, hush, Matt," Kitty told him. "I can take him."

"What?" Chester was clearly shocked, as were Doc and Matt.

"Kitty, don't be ridiculous!" Doc said. "You run a saloon- you're not a babysitter!"

Kitty didn't add anything witty or sarcastic; instead, she just bounced the baby as his cries subsided. Her blue eyes were full of adoration already.

"I am now, Doc."


Regardless of Kitty's protesting, Matt rode out to look for a family willing to adopt the boy while Doc prepared a telegram for the adoption agency.

However, the exhausted marshal had no luck.

By the time he rode back into Dodge at sunset, he was beat.

Matt got off his horse and walked slowly into the Longbranch Saloon. A few men walked by, probably wondering where the marshal had been all day.

Matt found Doc and Chester standing at the bar, talking to Sam. They both had a beer in their hand.

"Oh, Mr. Dillon," Chester started as Matt walked up, "Miss Kitty wouldn't let Doc send that telegram."

"What?" Matt's eyebrows furrowed. "Why not?"

Doc stroked his mustache, something he often did while speaking to someone. "Well, Matt, uh... she told Chester an' I that she wants to keep the baby."

Matt was totally puzzled. This wasn't like Kitty- at least, he didn't think so. "Where is she?"

"She's upstairs," Chester said.

Matt walked past the two, up the stairs, and straight to Kitty's room.

He knocked on the door. "Kitty? You in there?"

"Yeah, Matt, come on in."

So he opened the door and walked in. Kitty was sitting on her bed, cradling the child in her arms.

Matt closed the door behind him, his eyes staying on Kitty.

The red-headed saloon owner smiled down at the infant, who softly cooed and then sneezed. "Oh! Bless you," Kitty chuckled.

Matt exhaled. "Kitty... you've gotta let Doc send that telegram."

Her eyes darted up to meet his; she appeared shocked and possibly a bit hurt. "Why?"

"Well, Kitty, it's..." Matt shifted his weight from foot to foot. "A saloon isn't a place to be raising a baby, is it?"

"Where would you suggest Jesse be raised?" she pressed.

"Jesse?" Matt blinked. "You named him?"

"Yes, I did." Kitty looked down at the baby and grinned. "He's a sweet little thing, for sure..."

Matt frowned. "Look, Kitty," he began, sitting at her side, "a saloon is a dangerous place for a baby to be. There's brawls, gunfighters... what do you plan to do during the day, when you work?"

"I'll have somebody fill in for me for a couple months," she replied. "The Longbranch can function without me, you know."

"But, Kitty, you can't tell me you're just going to drop everything to take care of a baby you've known less than a day."

Kitty's blue eyes steeled. "Matt, no family around here is going to take in an Indian baby."

Matt paused. "How do you know that?"

"It's common knowledge," she answered. "I'm willing to take care of him, Matt- maybe even raise him- and I'd bet that nobody else around here would. Nor would anyone else in this state. You know what white people think of Indians."

She softened her gaze just a little. "Just let me try, Matt. If I can't do it, I'll let Doc send that telegram. But I can guarantee you that I can."

Matt knew it was no use arguing with Kitty. She always won. Besides, she did have a point.

He looked at the infant, who had fallen asleep, rubbed the back of his neck, and nodded. "Alright, Kitty. I'll let you try."

She gave him a sweet smile. "Thanks, Matt. I'll be up here with Jesse if you need me."

"Alright..."

Matt stood up and left the room, gently shutting the door.

"Well?" Doc asked when Matt reached him and Chester. "What'd you tell her?"

"I said she could keep him."

Chester, who was taking a swig of his beverage, choked on it and started coughing.

Doc wrinkled his nose at Chester's sputtering and looked up at the marshal. "But-... a saloon isn't-"

"I know, Doc," Matt interrupted. "But I can't change her mind. You know how that would go."

Chester coughed once more and wiped his mouth. "Y-you're not bluffin', are ya, Mr. Dillon?"

"No, Chester. I'm not bluffing."

Sam piped up from behind the bar. "Marshal, if Miss Kitty can run a saloon, she can raise a baby. I don't doubt that in the least."

Matt partially agreed, but he just wasn't certain. How could Kitty raise a baby and run a saloon?

It didn't seem possible.

But, then again, she'd proven herself to be capable of many things in the past. There was no reason she couldn't care for a baby.

With one last heavy sigh, Matt leaned against the bar on his palms. "How 'bout a beer, Sam?"


Chapter one is done! This one's probably going to be one of the shortest, but it didn't need to be super long, anyway. This is just the beginning.

Let me know you enjoyed by leaving a review!