A smile played at Matt Dillon's lips, as stepped out of the US Marshal's office into the cool autumn air. The morning had promised to be a slow one, and he was about to dive into the Kansas Gazette when Barney burst through the door. "Telegram just came for you Marshal. It was sent urgent." The veteran telegraph man handed over the message while scratching his head, "It's – well you'll see." Matt read the wire and grabbed his hat from a peg on the wall. "Thanks, Barney. I'll let you know when I have a response." He hurried off, chuckling as he read the urgent message again.
"Well, I don't often see Marshall Matt Dillon heading down Front Street with a smile on his face. What's so funny?"
Matt looked up and saw Kitty Russell, less than a foot away, wearing an elegant royal blue jacket and skirt. Her feathered hat, worn at a perfect angle, allowed soft, red ringlets to frame her face, setting off her beautiful eyes. Matt took her arm. "Just got word I have to pick up a prisoner, supposed to be on the next train. Care to join me?" Kitty raised a quizzical eyebrow. "You didn't answer my question, which was, why are you smiling? Anyway, why on earth would I want to go with you to pick up a prisoner?"
Still holding Kitty's arm, Matt started walking. She didn't resist, and fell into step, both of them naturally changing their strides to suit one another. They reached the depot as a whistle blew twice announcing the train's arrival. Side-by-side, they watched the conductor jump down from a passenger car, and set a wooden, two-step ladder next to the train's front exit. Matt pointed. "Looks like the conductor's about to deliver my very clever prisoner." Kitty threw Matt a puzzled look, his tone seemed oddly light. She turned her attention back to the train. The grim, tired looking conductor, extended his arm into the passenger car. A small hand reached out and clasped his large one. One small foot, in an ankle high boot, came down a step. Another followed. Firmly gripping the small hand, the conductor marched over to Matt. "Here you go Marshal Dillon, Sally Ann age 6, she's all yours." He quickly turned and hurried away grumbling under his breath. Sally Ann, age 6, stood with her feet together, staring straight ahead, with Matt's gun-belt in front of her eyes. She slowly moved her head upwards, in an attempt to find a face. It seemed to take forever, she'd never seen a man this big. Her eyes finally reached the star on his chest and then his piercing blue eyes. She bolted. Matt calmly extended one long arm and caught her by the wrist. She staggered back staring up at him. He got down on one knee. "Sally Ann, you don't have to be afraid. No one is going to hurt you." She nervously squirmed, trying to get lose from his grip. Wanting to put her at ease, Matt nodded towards Kitty, "This here's my friend, Miss Kitty. I thought you'd like to meet her." Sally Ann glanced at the woman standing next to the great big man, and stopped wiggling. Her eyes widened in amazement. Somewhere deep inside she knew there were ladies like this, but had never seen a real one. A lady who was beautiful, with smooth skin, pretty hair, fine clothes, and full, red lips that looked ready to smile.
Kitty bent closer. The child inhaled her lilac perfume and felt like she was in heaven. "Sally Ann, I am pleased to meet you. I bet you've been on that train for a very long time. You must be hungry. Let's go have lunch." Wide-eyed, Sally Ann nodded, and eagerly took hold of Kitty's hand. Matt gently, but firmly held the child's other hand, Sally Ann age 6 was known to run away.
Inside Delmonico's restaurant the little girl looked around in amazement. The tables were covered with clean white cloths. A man asked you want you wanted to eat, and then set it right in front of you. She looked down at her bowl of antelope stew and pick up a fork, making sure to hold it proper the way Miss Mason taught. Across the table Miss Kitty was eating her own bowl of stew. Next to her the big marshal was cutting a piece from his steak. He set down his knife and looked across the table with kind, but steady eyes. "Sally Ann, I know you ran away from the Kansas State Orphanage. That's a ways away. How'd you manage to get on a train?"
Sally took a second to swallow. Miss Mason said it was bad manners to speak with with food in your mouth. "Well, when I snuck out the side door of the orphanage I saw a wagon. I climbed in the back and hid. The man up front didn't see me, and he started driving. He kept going for a while. When he stopped I peeked out and saw a train. Some folks were getting on, some folks were getting off. I followed the folks getting on. Sometimes when you're little like me, grown-ups don't notice you so much, if they're busy."
"MATHEW, MATHEW," Festus burst through the door. He stopped short at the sight of a very small girl having lunch with Matt and Kitty. He'd be asking about that later. "Mathew, thar's a commotion over at the Lady Gay Saloon. Hank Carter's mad as an ole wet hen, an' wavin' a gun around. Says he's gonna shoot up the place."
Matt tossed his napkin on the table and whispered in Kitty's ear. "Take Sally to your place, I'll get her as soon as I can." Kitty frowned and mouthed the words. "I can't take her through a saloon." Matt got to his feet, "Go up the back way. See you later." He was gone before she could argue, and took off down the street, wondering what could make a man like Hank Carter get all that fired up.
Quick long strides took him in the Lady Gay within two minutes, and sure enough there was Hank – a prosperous, middle-aged rancher, yelling and waving his rifle around, like a crazy young cowboy feeling his oats. Matt left his gun in its holster, and stepped closer. "Hank, put the rifle down." Ignoring the lawman, Carter lifted his gun and took aim at a shelf lined with bottles of booze. Matt lightly touched Hank's arm. "Stop and think. Whatever the problem is, it won't be solved by shooting up bottles." The rancher paused, let out a long slow breath and lowered his gun.
The rotund, oily-faced saloon owner, Ollie, breathed a sigh of relief and shoved a cigar in his mouth. "Thanks Marshal. You can let Carter go. He made threats, but I won't press charges. I'm a generous man." Matt studied Hank, now slumped down in a chair. A respected rancher with a big spread, he wasn't a trouble maker. "Hank, what got you so riled up?"
Carter ran his fingers through his thinning hair. "I had a real profitable month auctioning my horses, so I decided to celebrate last night with a few drinks and a game of poker. I drank way too much, played way too long, and ended up losing $227. It's a lot of money and I felt stupid, but I figured it was my bad luck. Then this morning I got to thinking about some of the hands I held. No matter how good, I lost. That was true of the other men too. I was too drunk to realize it at the time, but the table was crooked – had to be. So I came and asked for my money back. Ollie laughed like it was a joke. That got my dander up." Matt glanced at Ollie, shakily lighting his cigar, and nodded toward a wiry, mustached man, slouching in the corner. "That's your dealer, Robert Smythe, right?" Without waiting for an answer, Matt strode over and held out a hand. "Your deck, Smythe." The dealer hesitated, his cards were like his children, he didn't like strangers messing with them. Matt's steely eyes bore into him. Arguing was pointless. Reluctantly, Smythe reached into his pocket and tossed over his deck. Matt shuffled through the cards with expert eyes. All four aces were creased in the corner, and 12 other cards had tiny pen-marks on their backs. Matt pocketed the deck. "You're done Smythe. Get out of town." The dealer's eyes grew dark with rage. He stiffened and clenched his fists. The room went silent. Smythe's eyes darted down to Matt's right hand, just inches from his gun. He shrugged and smiled. "You're not worth my trouble Dillon. I'll move on. One town's as good as another, as far as I'm concerned."
Ollie watched the dealer storm off, and nervously flicked his cigar, "Marshal, you're not closing me down, are you?" Matt didn't think much of Ollie, but a bunch of honest, hardworking folks would lose their jobs if he shut the place down. "This time a warning, don't let there be a next time. Give Hank his money back, and do the same for anyone else who comes asking."
With a long suffering sigh, Ollie counted out $227 and handed it to Hank. Satisfied, Matt turned to go. Hank Carter lightly tapped his arm. "Marshal, thank you. If I'd shot up the place like a dang fool, Caroline, my fiance, would be embarrassed, even ashamed. I'm not a youngster, Marshal. It's taken me a long time to find the right woman, and I don't want to mess it up." Matt gave the rancher a pat on the back and rushed off. He had to get back to Sally Ann, but first he had wires to send. The orphanage needed notification that their runaway was here, and local sheriffs had to be warned that a crooked dealer was out there, looking for a job.
Kitty
Sally Ann sat at Kitty's vanity, her thin legs dangling down. She was tiny for her age.
"Honey, open the jewelry box that's there on the table. There are pretty things inside." Kitty got out of her jacket and skirt and slipped on a comfy robe. She had time to relax before changing for work, surely Matt would be back before then. The 6 year old opened the carved wooden box, and let out a breathy gasp. She'd never seen such treasures. Kitty smiled at the gentle care the child took, as she held each piece of jewelry in the palm of her small hand "Oh, Miss Kitty, a whole lot of gentlemen must like you very, very much." Kitty frowned with surprise at Sally Ann's words. "What do – why do – what makes you think that?" The child ran a finger across a broach, a cameo set in gold. "Miss Mason teaches us girls the rules." Sally scrunched up her face to imitate the head of the orphanage. "Good women never buy things for themselves. That is selfish and vain. They may, however, accept gifts from respectable gentlemen on proper occasions." Sally relaxed her face. "Miss Kitty, you're a good woman aren't you?" Kitty stood over the child and smiled. "I like to think so, but I don't see things quite like your Miss Mason. Sally Ann, I own my own business, a kind of store. I have my own money, and see nothing wrong with buying myself pretty clothes or even jewelry. It's true that some things I have are gifts from people who are important to me, especially one person. I treasure those gifts, they're very special to me. But I don't think a woman always has to wait, for someone to buy her the things she'd like to have. If you are able and want to, I see nothing wrong with getting those things for yourself." The child slowly nodded with great seriousness. Kitty pointed towards the door. "Hear those footsteps coming down the hall. It's Marshal Dillon."
The 6 year old crossed her arms in front of her. "I know he's gonna send me back to the orphanage. I'm gonna run away again."
TBC